


Small Fortune

by Nefferee141



Series: RK800-S Adventures [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anyway what's better than one small android?, Boys Learning To Get Along, Bullshitted chemistry, Bullshitted programming, Case Fic, Crime Scenes, Crimes & Criminals, Father-Son Relationship, Found Family, Friendship, G/T, Gavin is done with all of this but it has barely started, Gen, Good Parent Hank Anderson, Gore, Hank Anderson & Connor Friendship, Organized Crime, Poor Life Choices, Protective Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Protective Hank Anderson, Protective Upgraded Connor | RK900, References to Addiction, References to Depression, References to Drugs, Religious Discussion, The pocket detective is back, Theme naming ahoy, There's so much crime in my version of Detroit, bullshitted everything really, human murder, no one should live there, yuuup
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2019-09-05 10:16:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 30,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16808671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nefferee141/pseuds/Nefferee141
Summary: The sequel of 'Small Favour.' If you haven't read that, go read it now. Everything in this story will make more sense if you do. Also, I worked hard on Favour and I think I did a swell job. Check it out.After the events of February, the central precinct of the Detroit City Police Depart is hoping for a quiet March, with regular levels of and regular sorts of crime. Connor, when not working cases, is working hard to find out who made the small unit he is currently stuck in. Hank is trying to support his partner while working through his own troubles. Gavin Reed, who until recently had worked solo, struggles to adapt to the android that had been assigned to him. Nines is trying to adapt to life among the living, and picks a strange way to do so.There's no accident so great that it can't be repeated on purpose, after all.Then, a man whose work could change the future of androids and the red ice trade is found dead in his home, the victim of a brutal murder. All four detectives find themselves assigned to the case, which could be more complicated than any of them could have imagined.





	1. Happy Little Day

The office was not the place that Gavin wanted to be at at 11:30 pm.

He was almost in the sort of dark mood where, if asked when everything that day started to go downhill, he would have snarked about it being three weeks ago when Fowler told him he had gotten a familiar plastic shadow. After all, it was Nines (who as of a few days before was now his partner, of all things) taking a two by four to the side of the head that had landed them with a ton of paperwork. Gavin tried not to think of how that two by four could have been smashed into his head, if the robot hadn’t insisted on taking point. If he was honest, that was when the day had started to go downhill. Though Nines had taken the wooden board to the head better than a human would have, it still put the robot out of commission for a few minutes, long enough to freak Gavin out and let the attacker get away.

He supposed he would have been less annoyed if this wasn’t the first time something like this happened with Nines. Almost every other day something would happen with the RK900 - he’d become overwhelmed with sensory information, he’d freeze in the middle of a reconstruction, he had once collapsed in the middle of chasing a perp. Each time he’d refuse to see one of the android mechanics on the DPD’s payroll. He claimed to see Kamski instead. Gavin wondered what the fuck Elijah had been doing with the android, since it didn’t seem to be fixing him. Upgraded version of Connor, his ass.

Oh well. As the saying went, you don’t pick your parents and you don’t pick your partner. If Gavin had things his way, his still would have been going solo. He’d just have to learn to deal with the buggy bot.

Gavin glanced across his desk to where Nines’ sat at his own. The android stared at his computer monitor with a small frown on his face. Gavin was pretty sure that the android had finished his portion of the paperwork hours ago, but he lingered at the office. The frown was almost enough to make Gavin feel bad for his resentment. The android was handling a head injury with much more grace than a human would have. 

Gavin was shaken out of his thoughts when Nines’ LED turned yellow and his head snapped in the direction of Hank’s desk. Gavin followed his gaze in time to see Connor sway on his feet where he stood by Hank’s computer before he sat down heavily and slumped against the computer. Nines was on his feet in an instant and he made a beeline towards the desk. Gavin looked to the break room, where Hank had gone to fix himself a cup of coffee. The two of them had been staying late as well, to try and finish their last stack of paper work from the February killings. Gavin got up to go get him - he had no idea about what was wrong with Connor, but he knew that Hank would want to know that his partner had collapsed. Especially since Connor was still less than half of a foot tall.

He glanced back to Nines, and the android gave him a quick head shake before waving him over. 

Gavin gestured to the break room. If there was something wrong with Connor and Gavin didn’t tell him, Hank would throttle him.

Nines just waved him over again.

With some reluctance Gavin joined him by Hank’s desk. Nines had moved Connor onto the portable charging pad. Connor looked just to be asleep, and Nines didn’t seem that worried as he gently positioned the little android’s arms and legs into something more comfortable and natural looking.

“What’s going on?” Gavin hissed to him.

“Connor needed to go into standby due to low power, but he felt uncomfortable being alone. He doesn’t seem to have the same rapport with the officers who work nightshift as he does with the dayshift.” Nines explained, and leaned against the desk. He watched a couple of the nightshift officers with eyes narrowed just enough to not be considered a glare, but still be seen as unfriendly.

“So he needs a body guard?”

Nines jerked his chin to one officer whose name he’d never gotten. Young, fresh from the academy. He seemed harmless enough. Nines said, “He said something that made Connor feel unsafe alone. Do I need more information?”

“Why not talk to him about it?” Gavin asked, and Nines’ response made him wince.

“I’m already disliked enough as it is. I want to be non-confrontational.”

To say that Nines had a difficult time fitting in would have been putting it mildly, and it wasn’t for lack of trying. Gavin nodded, then said, “Alright. I’m gonna get back to work. Yell if you need me.”

Nines nodded and gave him a small smile, a wordless thank you.

Gavin ignored the satisfaction that smile gave him and went back to his desk.

It took maybe a minute for trouble to start. Gavin had just started on the next page of paperwork when a couple people walked past him - one of the receptionists, and a beat cop who he didn’t recognize. Both human. He ignored them, until he heard one mention Connor. He continued to work, but shifted his focus to eavesdropping on the conversation that was moving across the bullpen… towards the two androids.

“Looks like the doll man needs a nap.”

“Oh, he looks adorable sleeping like that.”

“He’s in stasis.”

“You know what she meant.”

“I should take a picture, show it to my sister. She loves stuff like this.”

“I don’t think you should do that without Connor’s permission.”

“Oh, I wasn’t serious, but just look at him…”

“I’d kill to have one of my own.”

“I’d ask you to refrain from making comments like that. Most androids feel uncomfortable with the idea of being owned, or being products.”

“I was just kidding. What, were you not programmed to take a joke?”

“What are you even doing, lurking around? Aren’t you with Reed?”

Gavin hunched his shoulders and pretended to work harder on his paperwork.

Nines said, “Connor had asked me to keep people such as yourselves away from him.”

Gavin stopped typing mid keystroke. He may have stopped breathing. There were times when Nines was charming, confident, and sly enough to make a person believe that CyberLife had improved the social relations program Connor had. Then there was times like this, where Nines was as blunt and subtle as a sledgehammer. He turned his head to check on his partner. The receptionist looked shocked and the beat cop looked as if Nines had punched her. Nines had sidestepped to block their view of Connor, his arms crossed. He lifted his chin slightly and narrowed his eyes, as if he had just spotted a pile of crap on the floor.

It wasn’t the first time Gavin had seen that expression from Nines, and if he was honest with himself he loved it. It encapsulated every bit of machine arrogance that Nines had, the superiority complex that came with being better by design. Back in November it would have made him want to punch that look off of his face…

… Which is what the beat cop looked ready to do. Gavin jumped out of his chair to try to defuse the situation.

He had made it three steps from his desk before Hank came from around the holding cells, a mug of coffee in his hand. “What the fuck is going on here?”

“Nothing,” the receptionist said and dragged his friend away, who was still fuming. Gavin guessed that the swift retreat was because they knew that Hank wouldn’t be so cordial to them once he heard what they had said about Connor.

The beat cop said something that Gavin couldn’t catch, but it made Nines’ shoulders slump a little and Hank’s expression turn icy. Hank said to him, “What’s wrong with Connor?”

“Nothing. He needed to go into standby to recharge, and he wanted me to stay with him until you came back because he felt unsafe alone.” Nines said, the same explanation he had given Gavin.

Hank nodded once and said, “You can head back to your desk.”

“Of course, Lieutenant.”

Gavin watched as Hank fussed over the little android on his desk, before he said to Nines, “Look - er, thank you.”

Nines nodded, but didn’t turn back to look at him as he slid back into his desk. His expression was unreadable and his LED was spinning a rapid yellow cycle. 

“Are you okay?” Gavin asked, because he didn’t look okay.

He didn’t respond, just glared at his computer with so much force that Gavin was surprised it didn’t ignite.

“What’d she say to you?”

The LED turned red.

“C’mon, Nines…”

“It doesn’t matter.” The android snapped.

At any other time Gavin may have tried a more sympathetic approach, but it was getting late and he would have rather been anywhere than where he was, facing another five forms to fill out.

“Alright, fuckin’ android,” he said.

He tried to ignore the flash of hurt that crossed the robot’s face. He had a cat waiting for him at home, the sooner he got this done, the better.

Nines didn’t come in the next day. Or the next. He was still missing the day after that, and even the captain was getting concerned. Gavin considered calling up Elijah, but couldn’t bring himself to do it. On the fourth day he went to the apartment Nines had been staying in ever since he started working with DPD. It was on the ground level and when Gavin peered into the windows it looked as if no one lived there. To be fair, it had also looked that way on the one occasion he had been there before.

On the fifth day, Gavin walked into the bullpen and saw a cardboard box on top of Nines’ desk. It was the sort of box that people put their desk crap in while packing up. Nines had never had any desk crap to begin with, and Gavin wondered if that meant someone new was taking his spot.

“Reed. My office. Now.” Captain Fowler stood in front of his office’s door. The smart walls had been dimmed to prevent anyone from looking into it, and the captain himself looked ready to have a stress aneurism.

Gavin didn’t reach the rank of detective by being dense. He knew this had something to do with Nines. He followed the captain into his office, ready to hear some news, good, bad, or ugly. He expected… he didn’t know what he had been expecting.

It hadn’t been Nines himself sitting on Fowler’s desk, Connor sized.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Nines had an entire speech explaining why he was in this unit, how he came to be in it, how long he would be in it, etc planned for when Gavin walked in. The speech would assuage any worries and lower any doubts. He had already tested out on the captain, and since he was still in the captain’s office it must have worked. In his mind his partner would listen to what he had to say, and then the three of them would come up with a plan for the future and they would carry on with their day.

There was a reason why an android such as himself or Connor couldn’t preconstruct an entire conversation with a human. Nines blamed human unpredictability, but the true blame probably laid with their social skills being based on a preset program rather than actual experience and socialization.

In his mind, they would address this like civilized beings. In reality, Gavin took one look at him, then looked at Captain Fowler, “What the fuck is this?”

“I-“

The captain sounded exhausted as he said, “Normally I’d tell you to watch your language, but I had the same reaction.” That wasn’t an exaggeration.

Nines tried to speak up again, “Exc-“

“Why is he like this - why is he here, like this?” Gavin stepped forward to stand directly in front of Captain Fowler’s desk and gestured at Nines, but kept his eyes on the captain. “Is this some kind of joke?”

He wanted to interject, but he found himself frozen as he looked up at Gavin - whom he normally looked down at. He had given himself a day to spend adjusting to his new unit in terms of physicality and perception, but it still quite hadn’t quite prepared him for how strange it all was. The two humans were talking over him, as if he weren’t there. 

“Unfortunately, no.” Captain Fowler sighed. “This isn’t a joke, though it does feel like one. I called you in here so the three of us can figure out how to work with…” he trailed off and let his own hand fall onto the desk with a thud that rattled Nines. “… With that.”

It wasn’t difficult to hack into the office’s audio. The security, if it could be called that, was flimsy enough that it took less then a second for him to be connected.

“I’m gonna guess that the box on his desk has something to do with this,” Gavin said. “It better be for packing up his stuff -“

“It has what I need to function in this unit, actually.” Nines interjected. His voice emanated from the speakers in the office as well. He disconnected himself from them once he saw that he had both Captain Fowler’s and Gavin’s attention. He gave them both a slight smile, as advised by his social relations program. “May I speak? I can explain, if you’d let me.”

Captain Fowler said, “You may explain to both of us why we shouldn’t send you and your box back home.”

His smile, as slight as it had been, fell. “You both may have noticed the performance issues in my RK900 unit. The RK900 series wasn’t cleared for release when I was activated - myself and the others in my series active at the time were used as proof of concept for CyberLife to display to their investors. As a result, we were also the test builds for new hardware and updates for previous hardware. This meant that, once I deviated and left, I was functioning on barely functional parts. That is one reason why I’m like this.” He left out how even his functional parts had been rendered barely functional when he assisted Gavin with helping Connor. 

He continued, “The other is that when I received the blow to my head several days ago, I had initially thought that the only damage it did was disconnecting my optical units. When I came out of standby the next morning, I was unable to move. In reality, it had also caused damage to thirium lines and wires in my spine that had increased overnight, and had damaged my self diagnostic tool. The damaged lines in turn meant that several of my vital components were receiving less thirium, and had sustained damage as a result. I was able to contact my benefactor, Mr. Kamski, and we decided that it was best to move my software to a different unit while he tried to repair that damage and the already present errors in my hardware.”

Gavin scoffed, “You thought this was better than living with some damage.”

“Given that the damage had left me only able to move my head with some effort, yes, this is preferable.” Nines couldn’t stop the shudder (a strange physical response to emotion) that came when he recalled how it had felt to come out of standby and discover his joints and muscles locked, to see the critical damage warnings flash on his HUD.

Gavin shook his head, “Okay, fine. Why the fuck that unit?”

“It was available.” Nines said.

“So, what, Eli just had a tiny RK900 lying around?”

Nines found himself unable to meet his partner’s eyes. He was embarrassed, he realized. “I had asked him to make it for me, weeks ago. That’s unimportant.” He turned to look up at Captain Fowler. “What is important is that I am able to perform my duties to the same degree that Connor can perform his.” He lifted his chin and clasped his hands behind his back. “To a greater degree, in fact. This unit was designed to match my software and investigative capabilities. It would be ridiculous - and unfair - for you to let Connor to continue to work and not myself.”

“Those are fair points.” Captain Fowler said.

“Thank you.”

“I wasn’t finished. Those are fair points, but Connor was the only android employed in a field position at the time, and it was a time when we needed every able detective. Even then, I was reluctant to keep him working cases.” Captain Fowler sighed. “I only let him work because Hank - Lieutenant Anderson - was willing to watch out for him, and could work on his own.” He looked back over Nines again, to Gavin, “How do you feel about this? I know you’ve worked solo ever since you transferred here.”

“I’m pretty sure that I made it clear that I’m not happy,” Gavin said, “But… Can I talk with him, privately?” 

“Observation room 1 is open.”

Nines opened his mouth to ask them to not talk is if he weren’t there, but he instead emitted a surprised yelp when Gavin grabbed him off of the desk. His grip was tight to an uncomfortable degree and kept Nines’ arms pinned to his sides as he marched out of Captain Fowler’s office. Gavin didn’t hold his hand that steady as he walked, and Nines found himself closing his eyes as the world swung around him in pace with Gavin’s steps. His HUD warned him to recalibrate his balance sensors once he stopped moving. He couldn’t help but wonder if this carelessness was just ignorance, or if it was deliberate action. Gavin must have seen how Hank and others handled Connor with, after all.

He almost fell when Gavin dumped him on the counter in the observation room, but his balance recovered quickly and he instead stumbled a few steps. He opened his eyes and took in his enlarged surroundings. He had observed interrogations before, but had yet to participate in one. A disposable coffee cup that hadn’t been thrown out stood on the counter alongside him. It was taller than him, an observation that still unnerved him.

He looked up to Gavin, who watched him with an expression that even his analysis labelled ‘inscrutable.’

Gavin said, “You look a little unsteady.”

“I can’t say that you were very careful with me.” Nines rolled his shoulders. “What did you want to discuss?”

“This ain’t a jealousy thing, is it?” Gavin leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. “You thought ‘hey, everyone likes Connor, why don’t I try to copy him’?”

“What - no, of course not.” Nines looked him in the eyes, “This is just because my true body needs to be repaired. I shouldn’t be like this for more than a week.”

“Fine. I can buy that. Why did Elijah have a body ready for you?”

“You tend to refer to Mr. Kamski in familiar terms. Why is that?”

“Don’t avoid the question.”

Nines looked down. “When I was waiting to hear back from the DPD, I searched for apartments and tried to meet new people, androids and human. They all seemed to find me unnerving in some way. I wondered if they would react better if I was in a completely unthreatening form. I mentioned this to Kamski, and he suggested my own small unit. I had said no, but according to Chloe he had entered one of his focused moods and he had designed it and fabricated all of the parts that night.”

That story was fifty percent false, but it sounded believable enough. Gavin must have felt that way to because he asked, “Where do we go from here?”

“I want to work.”

“Yeah, I got that, dipshit. What about when you’re not working? Did you even think about that?” Gavin rolled his eyes. “You have your stuff here. What, you plan on living in the bullpen?”

That hadn’t quite been his plan, but Nines had decided that this week was not going to go as planned, “I don’t really do much when I’m not working. The size change shouldn’t be much of an inconvenience in that regard.”

“That’s fucking depressing.”

“I wouldn’t know.” Nines couldn’t say he had a good metric for ‘depressing’, since he didn’t have one for ‘uplifting’ either.

“Let me tell you - it’s fucking depressing. Even Connor does shit on his days off.” Gavin pushed off of the counter and grabbed the coffee cup, then threw it in the trash.

Nines watched him. “He has Hank.” Connor had his partner - and Nines had counted on having his.

“He-“ Gavin’s response was cut off by the intercom.

“Reed, Nines. If you’ve made up your minds, come to my office again. I have an assignment,” Captain Fowler paused, “Lieutenant Anderson and Connor are here as well.”

Gavin tapped a button on the wall. “We’re coming.”

Nines raised his arms when Gavin grabbed him again, so they wouldn’t be pinned. “You’re willing to still work with me?” He couldn’t keep the note of relief and happiness out his voice.

Gavin just replied, “We got work to do.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“I take it that the prodigal robot has returned, then?” Hank set Connor down on Jeffrey’s desk and took a seat in one of the chairs.

Jeff looked less than amused, “You’ll see.”

Connor smoothed out his jacket, adjusted his sleeves and collar, then folded his hands behind his back and said, “I’m happy to hear that he’s okay.”

“I told you he was fine.”

“Normally when humans say such things, it’s less because they know for certain and more because they want to ease distress,” Connor’s tone was deadpan with just a dry hint of sarcasm. “You just happened to be correct.”

“Fine, next time I’ll just tell you that I don’t know.”

“I do appreciate the sentiment, though.” Connor looked up to Jeffrey, who had listened to that exchange with an unamused expression. “Can you tell us about the case?”

“Not until Gavin and Nines get here.”

Hank folded his arms and leaned back in the chair, “It must be something big, if you need the four of us.”

The door to the office opened, and Connor stood ramrod straight in a way that reminded Hank of the first time Sumo went to the vet and the oversized puppy spotted a cat. He didn’t try to chase it, but he had stared it down and filled the reception area with enough tension to cut with a knife. Connor stared past Hank with that same sort of tension, his LED flashing yellow. Hank swivelled in his chair to look at what was bothering him.

“Oh, you gotta be fucking kidding me.”

Gavin, who had hesitated in the doorway, walked into the office. Though Hank couldn’t really blame anyone for feeling uncomfortable around Gavin, he knew that the younger detective wasn’t what Connor had been staring at. His focus was trained on the android in his hands. Connor continued to stare down Nines as he was placed on the table. His expression turned from spooked to a familiar thin lipped, put out expression as his LED continued to cycle yellow. The two of them were having a conversation, he guessed.

Hank leaned forward in the chair, and looked both of them over. His annoyance with the situation was briefly displaced by faint amusement - yep, they were proportional. Connor was still the shortest member of the DPD. Then he looked at Gavin, “What the fuck happened to him?”

Gavin ignored him and took a seat at the other chair. He said to Jeffrey, “You said that we have an assignment.”

Jeffrey slid two tablets past the tiny androids, who were still staring each other down in a silent confrontation. Nines’ expression remained neutral, but Connor’s put out look had deepened into something like an actual pout. Hank wondered if Connor was even aware of the fact that he was making that face. Jeffrey rapped the desk to get their attention. Both androids flinched at the sound and feeling, and both looked to Jeffrey in a motion that was so synchronized it was almost creepy. 

“Look, you can sort out your feelings about this on your own time,” Jeffrey said, and began, “This morning Miles Jennings didn’t report in with his contact at the DPD. Normally this isn’t a cause for concern, he’s forgotten before, but we were unable to contact him ourselves through our regular channels. We sent a patrol car over. He didn’t answer when the officers knocked, so they entered his home.” Jeffrey paused and gestured to the tablets. 

Hank took one, and after a moment’s thought grabbed Connor as well and put him on his shoulder so he could view the tablet with him. Gavin just grabbed the tablet and left Nines standing on the table. Hank unlocked the device and winced when he saw the picture the preceded the initial report.

Jeffrey continued, “They found Jennings dead, in the state photographed. We’ve sent CSI there now, but we’re holding off moving the remains until you four have a chance to look the scene over. Normally, this would be turned over to the feds, but we suspect android involvement. You know the sort of thing Jennings was working on.”

“He was trying to synthesize a substitute for thirium 310,” Connor said, “One that could work for both androids, and for cooking red ice.”

“What interest would an android have in killing him? It would only benefit us to have a thirium alternative outside of CyberLife distribution.” That was Nines, who studied the back of Gavin’s tablet from the desk.

“Personal profit, perhaps - but this is all speculation,” Connor replied, “Android involvement is only suspected. I know that this is a high profile case, but… if you don’t mind me asking, captain, why send all four of us?”

“Between the four of you there’s two able bodied detectives and at least half a brain, I hope.” Jeffrey said. “And because I have a bad feeling. Call it instincts.” He leaned back and looked all four of them over, “Do you have any questions?”

Hank shook his head.

“None right now.”

“No, captain.”

Gavin said, “I haven’t decided if I’m still gonna work with him.” He pointed to Nines, whose LED flashed red in response. “Can I use this investigation as a performance review, as the senior partner?” He tossed the tablet back onto the table. “I’m not making any decisions until I see how he is in the field.”

“Very well.” Jeffrey gave him a single nod, then said, “If that’s all, then you’re dismissed.”

Hank stood up and walked out of the office. He stood at the base of the stairs and waited for Gavin and Nines to come out.

When they did, Gavin scowled at the two of them. He held Nines at an awkward angle, and Hank couldn’t help but feel sorry for the android, who didn’t look comfortable.

Hank said to them, “So, really, why the fuck is he like that?”

“Stupid android bullshit. His other body is falling apart or something, and Kamski only had the small one ready as replacement.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“No, I mean, he told me that he wouldn’t stick an unwilling android in a small unit. He seemed uncomfortable with the idea of it, to be honest.”

“I was willing, Lieutenant.” Nines said. “It doesn’t matter - we have an assignment, do we not?”

Connor said, “Since only two of us need to use seats, perhaps we should carpool together.”

Connor was right, Hank could badger them in the car. He said to Gavin, “You wanna ride, or drive?”

Gavin gave him a sneer, which was almost comforting in its familiarity. “I’ll drive. After last February, I’m not sure if you’re clunker can get us there.”

He pushed past Hank, and nearly knocked Connor off of his shoulder. Hank steadied the small android and frowned after the younger detective. His usual nastiness had started to disappear ever since the shooting in February, but now it seemed to be back in full force. Gavin didn’t seem to be too pleased at all with the turn of events. Hank grimaced. This wasn’t going to be a pleasant investigation - not that it would have been if Gavin had been in a good mood.

Murders that involved the description ‘brutal dismemberment’ were rarely pleasant.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

The first thing Connor noticed when they pulled up to Miles Jennings’ residence was that all of the windows were open. That piqued his curiosity - it was late March, and the weather had warmed significantly since February (which had been the coldest in years.) Still, the mild weather was not warm enough to justify the ventilation. The house itself was a small single level home not dissimilar to Hank’s, with a large backyard dominated by a shop that served as Jennings’ laboratory.

A familiar figure waved them down as they pulled up by the house. Brianna Michel stood suited up with her crew outside of the house.

“You and Reed will want PPE,” She said to Hank, handing him a pair of clothes and a breathing mask. “Jennings didn’t exactly live the healthiest lifestyle and… well, it’s unpleasant in there.” She didn’t comment on Nines, or didn’t notice him. She said to Connor, “You should also wash up once you’re done, little guy.” Androids couldn’t become infected with diseases themselves, but they could become vectors for them.

Hank grumbled a bit as he put on the gloves and mask, “You’ve seen the pictures?”

“I’ve been briefed, yeah. We’ll let you guys have your walk through before we do our thing.” 

“Why are all the windows open?” Connor asked.

“The killers cranked up the house’s heating and left the shower running hot to steam up the place. They wanted to advance putrefaction, I think.” Michel shook her head. “I’ve been doing this for almost a decade now and this… this is nasty.”

“You said killers? You think there’s more than one?” Hank asked as he walked to the door way.

“See for yourself. It looks like a team effort to me.”

The temperature difference between the spring weather outside and the inside of the house was enough to make Connor flinch as his programs halted certain functions and started others to maintain ideal temperature. The air was damp as well, a dampness that brought back unpleasant memories of a cellar in a forest. He was glad that he didn’t have a sense of smell that functioned like a human’s - his lack of digestive system made it so he didn’t gag on the air like Hank. Though it looked like the rundown houses common to Detroit from the outside, the house had been modernized on the inside with a new climate control system, among other features. Connor accessed it wirelessly, and found evidence of a previous hack.

They left the foyer and entered the living the room, where most of the remains had been discovered.

“Whoa - that’s, that’s something. Where’d you like to start?” Hank asked him as he surveyed the room.

The body, or most of it, is what caught Connor’s eye first. Jennings had been skinned and dismembered. The neck, torso and skin had was yet to be located, as far as he knew. The man’s arms and legs had been arranged to form a crude 9 off centre of the middle of the living room, with his head placed in the centre of the 9’s circle. His eyes were missing, but he had not been scalped. That was what helped the first responders identify him. The living room furniture seemed to have been scattered, but his sensors kept on trying and failing to detect a pattern in how they had been placed. Connor dismissed those alerts. Blood spattered the living room, which was to be expected. What was unexpected - and what neither Hank nor Gavin nor the first responders could have noticed, was the thirium traces on the floor. ‘Guide us’, written 645 times on the hardwood floor. ‘Save me’, written 82 times. Around Jennings’ head was ‘forgive me.’

It was a bit excessive, in Connor’s opinion.

“Can you set me down?” He asked Hank, who obliged.

“I’d like to be set down as well,” Nines said behind them, presumably to Gavin.

Connor stepped back as Hank turned around to look at Gavin and said, “You wanna check out the shop? I can keep an eye on these two.”

“Fine.” Connor watched as Gavin stepped out of the living room again.

Hank stepped aside to let Nines pass in front of him and Connor felt a twinge of sympathy as the other android instinctively sidestepped away from the giant man as he moved. The sympathy was squashed down by bitter resentment as he remembered the conversation they had earlier. Nines had chosen this. To the other android, this was going to be fun little adventure while his body was fixed by the genius who invented androids. Connor had been stuck in his own small unit for almost six weeks, and the parts needed to repair his real body were still locked behind copyright law and bureaucratic red tape.

He still didn't know who made his current unit, or why. All he knew is that it wasn't CyberLife, not officially, anyway.

Nines stood beside him. According to his system specs, Connor’s own unit was five point five inches tall. Nines’ was five point eight inches. They were built to the same proportions, both 1/13th their previous size. He had to admit that it was interesting to finally meet his would be successor on equal enough footing, though he resented how it happened.

He swallowed the feelings down and said, “If you’d like, I can help you investigate. It’s strange, examining evidence from this perspective for the first time.” He tried to sound friendly, but his tone fell flat to his own ears.

Nines surveyed the room again and said, “I should be fine. I spent two days acclimatizing to this unit, I’m ready to work.”

Connor hadn’t even been activated in the small unit for two fucking hours before he had investigated a mass shooting. This - this wasn’t fair. He let his hands ball into fists but nodded and said, “If you say so. If you want any help, you can ask.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Nines focused ahead of them, at the skinned leg that formed the tail of the nine. “I noticed something about the victim’s head that I want to investigate. What will you be doing?”

“Something strange?”

“His tongue is missing - if it’s as putrified as the rest of the body, it should be swollen, like his lips.” Nines said. “You didn’t notice?”

Connor had only noticed that the eyes were missing, and that the head had not been skinned like the rest of the body. He wanted to blame the pattern his programming kept trying to see, but he wondered if it was just because of the RK900’s improved features. He ignored the latter question and answered Nines’ first one: “I’m going to look for samples to test, and see if there’s any other clues I couldn’t see from Hank’s shoulders.” He hesitated, then asked, “Did you notice any patterns?”

“Other than the nine? No.” Nines began to walk towards the nine.

Connor watched him go, then walked to the closest blood stain. Sampling it resulted in an ‘ugh’ from Hank, and gave him enough information to visually scan the rest of the bloodstains throughout the room and identify them as belonging to Jennings. He also learned that the man had ongoing health issues, but he supposed that they were irrelevant.

Next, he found a splash of thirium that was significant enough to be sampled. As he licked the blue blood from his fingers he heard Hank say, “How much shit do you plan on sticking in your mouth today, anyway?”

Connor blinked as the analysis came back. “This is thirium, not a substitute, but it’s fresh - well, unregistered. It hasn’t come in contact with any major biocomponents belonging to an android yet.”

“Taken from a bag, then?”

“Most likely.” Connor nodded, then noticed a scuff mark on the floor.

It made sense for the hardwood to be scuffed, given how the furniture in the room had been pushed around in apparent disarray. Still he examined it, and other scuff marks on the floor. He blinked, and followed the pattern of the scuff marks on foot. The shape of the scuffs, and their regularity gave him pause. The furniture hadn’t been moved in a scuffle.

Connor looked around, and found an ottoman that hadn’t been moved. He jogged over to it and climbed up it, his fingers digging into fabric as he worked to pull himself. He heard Hank start to walk over, and managed to pull himself on top of it before Hank arrived. He knew that his partner would have given him a well meaning boost, but Connor liked these small victories. From his new vantage point he surveyed the floor and mapped out the scuff marks and potential previous furniture placement. Connor tipped his head has his HUD highlighted the marks on the floor. The furniture had been moved deliberately.

He studied the furniture the way it had been placed towards the centre of the room alongside Jennings’ remains. He thought of the pattern he could almost see from Hank’s shoulder, how he couldn’t get a hint of it from this lower angle. He had an idea.

“Hank, can you pick me up again?” Connor looked up at Hank.

From where he stood by Jennings’ head, Nines said, “There’s something in his mouth.” He was silent for a moment before adding, “I’m afraid that I most likely cannot retrieve it by myself.”

Hank plucked Connor from the ottoman, “Give me a second. What do you need, Connor?”

Connor looked over the furniture. The pattern was forming, but it was still not quite right - like the graffiti on the way to Jericho. He had to be at the right angle to see it. He said to Hank, “Raise me higher.”

Hank raised him to eye level. “Like this?” It was enough to make old fears resurface, but still not high enough for him to see the whole picture.

Connor shook his head. “Higher.”

Gavin walked back into the living room, sounding a little out of breath, “I found the torso, and the skin.”

Hank raised slowly Connor above his head, “Give us a second.” Connor could hear him continue to grumble under his breath about weird androids and investigation techniques, and mutter complaints about them never getting normal assignments.

Connor gripped onto his hands and tried to ignore the fear that spiked through him with the height, and tried to ignore how unsteady Hank’s hands felt. Hank had only dropped him once - on purpose, but hadn’t been a good time for either of them. He trusted Hank. He looked down at the scene of the living room, and the pattern finalized on his HUD. It all made sense - the moved, tipped over furniture. The deliberate placement of everything towards the centre of the room. The nine made out of limbs. The pleas drawn in thirium.

Arranged in the middle of the crime scene was a familiar string of letters and number:

rA9.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I saved the best boy for last.
> 
> Anyway, it's here! I'm not gonna lie, I had some of this in my head since about chapter 7 of Favour, but I knew there was no way to gracefully include it into that story's plot. At least it made writing the writing process of this part faster, haha.
> 
> Also, for fun, there's [a playlist for Small Fortune](https://open.spotify.com/user/nefferee/playlist/4aWsBY0w3Lmkej5KmNeDDP?si=t8DX3QsiRhGU6ajFcbSKmA). How much the songs on it influence the story varies, but check it out if you want an idea about my taste in music. And if you want to, feel free to add to it. I'm always up for new music.
> 
> I love comments, they make my day.


	2. Static On Your Frequency

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moving forwards, moving backwards

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Erich_Heinrich started a drawing based off of these stories, go and give them love <3](https://myshiptrashcan.tumblr.com/post/182125109312/im-unfortunately-not-going-to-finish-it-i)

“rA9.”

Nines turned around from where he stood by the victim’s decapitated head and looked up at Connor. He watched as Lieutenant Anderson lowered him from where he held him above his head and felt a twinge of… dislike? Jealousy? He wasn’t certain. All he knew was that while Lieutenant Anderson handled Connor with obvious care, Nines had to perform several minor self repairs in his arms after being roughly picked up and moved by Gavin.

Gavin himself spoke up and brought Nines back to the scene at hand, “What, like the android god thing?”

“Yes. The furniture and the remains were arranged to make the letters and number when viewed from above.” Connor confirmed, now moved to Hank’s shoulder. “It wasn’t uncommon to find rA9 inscribed at the sites of deviant incidents. Carlos Ortiz’s house, the squat in Camden, Rupert’s apartment, the storage area of the Eden Club…”

“Did Jennings’ have an android?” Hank asked, then seemed to reconsider that question and said, “Did he have any android associates?”

Connor said no at the same time that Gavin said, “Looks like it.” When their attention turned to him he said, “I found some stuff in the shop - stuff that I’d like to check out again, but I’m gonna need help. Human sized, physical help.” He added, after meeting Nines’ eyes. What he implied was clear.

Hank grumbled something and bent over to put Connor down on the floor. “Try not to get into trouble.”

Gavin leaned against the door frame as he waited for Hank.

Nines turned back to the head. He had planned on asking for help while trying to extricate the bit of plastic he saw sticking out from between the swollen, putrified lips, but now he didn’t want to highlight his own uselessness in physical matters. He knew that he could most likely pull out the mystery object by himself, it was just easier and safer to ask for assistance. There was a chance of the head rolling, with a greater chance of it rolling forward onto him thanks to the head’s weak chin.

He grabbed the plastic and gave it an experimental tug. A muffled scraping noise confirmed his suspicion that it was caught in the head’s teeth. That would make it harder to remove. Nines gripped the plastic and started to pull. The head tipped forward, but didn’t roll.

Then he heard Gavin mutter, “for fuck’s sake,” and walk up to him, the arrangement of limbs, and the head. Nines let go of the plastic as a hand grabbed him, lifted him up, and dropped him away from the skull. It wasn’t a long fall (a foot, if that), but the same unpleasant feeling twisted inside him. Nothing was meeting his expectations.

He didn’t say anything as Gavin squatted in front of the head, tipped it back and opened with the mouth with one hand and grabbed the plastic component with the other. Nines recognized it easily: an android compatible memory stick. While most androids could share memories and information with each other and other technology in person, such memory sticks allowed the information to be stored and shared without the android present.

He relayed that information to Hank and Gavin (Connor most likely recognized it as well), and Hank told Gavin to bag it as evidence, they’d have whatever was stored on it reviewed in a safer and secure area later.

When the two humans were finally ready to leave Hank said to both of them, “Don’t get into trouble.”

Gavin, inexperienced with working with androids, added, “Stay put.”

It didn’t take long after the two humans left for both Nines and Connor to decide to have a look through the rest of the house while they waited for their respective partners. The two of them made an unspoken agreement to stick together as they made their way through the house. Nines let Connor set the pace. He fell in step beside his predecessor and mentally grasped for something to talk about, something to fill the awkward silence between them. Connor had been displeased with his change in units, and he could still sense that displeasure in the other android’s expression.

He asked, “What do you know about rA9?”

“Not much. Some deviants worship it, some don’t.” Connor seemed to relax a little as he spoke. “There are some groups who use it to promote anti-human ideology, but the biggest organized group of rA9 devotees seems harmless.”

“You mentioned seeing the symbol during the deviancy investigation.”

“Yes. Perhaps it’s related to software errors and instability on a subconscious level.” Connor shrugged, then stopped. Nines stopped as well. Connor looked him over and asked, “How are you feeling?”

Nines studied him. Why did he ask that? His predecessor looked curious, if not a little hesitant. Nines wanted to brush off the question with a curt fine, but instead said, “I don’t know.”

Connor tipped his head, but didn’t say anything.

Nines turned the question back on him, “And how are you? I apologize if my presence makes you uncomfortable.”

Connor winced, “Don’t apologize for that.”

Irritation, confusion and frustration made Nines’ chest feel tight, “Then don’t make me feel as if I need to apologize for it.” 

Connor blinked at the outburst, then his eyes widened. He opened his mouth to speak but Nines cut him off and said, “This is all irrelevant right now.” He needed to regain control of his emotions. What was the point of the freewill that came with deviancy if he was bound to them? He closed his eyes and asked, “What do you think of the case so far?”

He sensed Connor step closer to him, and didn’t react when he put a hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

_/RK800-S 53 requesting contact/_

_/Request denied/_

Nines shrugged him off, “That’s irrelevant. If you want to talk, we can do so after the investigation.” He opened his eyes, and glared down at the other android, who quickly averted his eyes and stepped away. Nines adjusted his jacket and continued, “I think the rA9 symbol and the prayers and thirium are part of a ruse, designed to direct suspicion towards rA9 worshippers. You mentioned that some groups have associated it with anti-human rhetoric.” He started walking forward at a fast pace.

He felt some petty satisfaction as he heard Connor, slightly shorter than him, struggle to match his gait. He called after him, “The writing is in perfect CyberLife Sans, and the arrangement of the rA9 symbol is also precise, to a degree that humans would deem insignificant. There also isn’t any biological evidence at the scene aside from the victim’s remains. This does indicate android involvement.”

“Human professional killers don’t become professional if they leave behind large amounts evidence.” Nines stopped in front of a door that was not fully closed. Warm water leaked from underneath it. According to the house’s floor plan, this was the single bathroom. He pushed on the door and after a moment’s hesitation Connor joined him.

Both androids were silent as the looked over the state of the bathroom. Judging by the state of disarray and the large amount of blood on the walls of the room, this was where Jennings had been attacked. The air smelled strongly of mint, and the bath was filled to the point of having overflowed earlier. 

Nines analyzed the water. It had trace amounts of blood, from the victim, and thirium, but not enough to be analyzed. It also contained mouthwash, spilled from the counter. He looked up at the bath tub - it was tall and deep, and its sides were smooth. It would be difficult for them to climb up it and view what was inside. He turned to the counters instead - they offered no handholds within reach, but if Nines gave him a boost, Connor could probably reach.

He gestured to the counter, and Connor nodded. It wasn’t difficult to lift up the other android, even with his strength being relative to his size. He stepped back and watched as Connor clambered up to the surface, then called, “Do you see anything interesting?”

“No, just more signs of struggle. The blood matches Jennings, and there isn’t any significant amount of thirium anywhere,” He reported, then looked down at Nines from the counter. A flicker of discomfort passed through his expression, and then he climbed down.

Nines knew that Connor was afraid of heights, thanks to Gavin. Thanks to CyberLife he knew it was from the other android’s first mission, on his activation day. Once Connor was back on the floor with him Nines headed back to the hallway. There was still the rest of the house to investigate.

However, the bedroom, the kitchen and the study didn’t have anything interesting to tell them, other than information about Jennings’ eating and sleeping habits. Nines hoped that Gavin’s and Lieutenant Anderson’s investigation of the shop was more fruitful. The two androids were walking side by side in silence in the hall, headed to the living room once more when they heard the sound of footsteps and voices.

“Where the fuck did they go?” That was Gavin, sounding irritated.

Lieutenant Anderson on the other hand sounded tired, “We’ve been gone half an hour. They probably got bored.”

“We’re here.” Nines announced calmly as they stepped back into the living room. “We were investigating -“

Gavin stalked towards him with an annoyed expression on his face. Connor darted out of the way, towards Lieutenant Anderson, as Gavin reached down and snatched Nines from where he stood. His arms were once more pinned to his sides, and Gavin held him so tight that he could barely breath. What air he could get informed him that the detective’s protective gloves were coated with a sludge of chemicals and biological material. He tried to free his arms, to no avail.

Gavin adjusted his grip as he brought Nines to eye level, and Nines bit down a pained yelp, his programmed response to damage. The way he had moved his fingers caused damage in the shoulder joints again, and his now even more tightened grip was putting pressure on vital biocomponents. He squirmed, and couldn’t bite back the pained cry he made when his shoulder dislocated.

Gavin’s face turned grey, “Oh… oh fuck.” His grip loosened enough that Nines thought he was about to drop him. “Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t think you were that - fucking hell.”

Nines felt concerned for his partner, whose steps swayed a little as he carried him outside.

“It’s not painful.” Nines tried to reassure Gavin, “The cry, it’s just an alert, like a red LED.” He didn’t mention that the damage added a significant amount of emotional stress, which was painful in its own way. “If you put me down, I can probably fix it by myself.”

Gavin placed him on a table that had been set up beside one of the forensics vans, one placed there for sanitizing and replacing non-sterile equipment. Nines disconnected and ejected his arm, reset and repaired the synthetic muscles around the joint, and reconnected his arm and set his self repair module on it. He winced as he saw his viable thirium levels lower again with the repairs. He would need more when they got back to the station.

“Are you alright?” Gavin had watched this all with a dark expression.

He wasn’t, but Nines nodded anyway. “Yes, but please be more careful with me in the future.” His voice had a slight tremor to it that he hoped Gavin couldn’t hear. He knew that he was more fragile at this size, but the minimal amount of handling he had received before at Kamski’s had not prepared him for what that fragility was like in reality. He could be destroyed without a second thought.

“Yeah, I fuckin’ got that.” The detective ran a hand down his face, then walked off, mumbling something about needing to clear his head. 

Nines watched him leave, careful to keep the dejection he felt off of his face. He doubted that Gavin felt he was worth working with now.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

After all of that Gavin didn’t want to hold Nines again. Fuck, he didn’t even want to touch the android if he could help it. Of course, reality didn’t care about what he wanted. That’s how he got saddled with a pattern, shit, an android partner in the first place, and why that same partner dropped off of the face of the earth for a few days then came back pocket sized, as if nothing was wrong. With Nines the way he was, Gavin was going to have to grit his teeth and bear the weirdness and uncomfortableness of the whole situation. At least for that day.

He walked the perimeter of the scene, then circled back to the table he had left Nines at. Hank was there with Connor and a tub full of water, and a bottle of some sort of antiseptic soap. Gavin didn’t become a homicide detective by being dense and he realized that, of course, after interacting with all the nasty shit at a crime scene the androids would have to get cleaned up (especially Nines). Hank and Connor seemed resigned to that fact, and had even brought an extra set of clothes for the tiny android.

Nines rode back to the precinct in the cup holder in soaked clothing, looking miserable.

Gavin didn’t feel much better.

When they walked in they passed Ben, who was headed out. Gavin overheard him stop and talk to Hank. From the sounds of it, a dead body had been found near capitol park, with wounds suggesting an assault gone wrong or a homicide. Just another day in Detroit. Gavin helped Nines get into his box of stuff to put on some dry clothes, then collapsed into his chair and got started on writing up a report and filling out the proper forms.

Normally paperwork was a special kind of drudgery, but at that moment Gavin welcomed its mind numbing effect.

When he heard rustling from the desk opposite his he glanced away from the monitor. Nines climbed out of the box, a coat under his arm, and jumped down to the surface of his desk. He still looked a little disheveled, but on Nines it wasn’t a bad look. Gavin pushed that thought aside and reminded himself that the android in question was an android and less than half a foot tall.

As the little robot smoothed his rumpled shirt and pulled on the coat, Gavin asked, “You feeling better?”

“Yes, thank you.” Nines folded his arms and looked up at Gavin. He tipped his head and asked, “What did you find in Jennings’ shop that you needed Lieutenant Anderson’s help with?”

“Why were you and Connor wandering around? What did you find, anyway?” Gavin countered.

“We found nothing of significance - where the victim was attacked, but nothing else.” Nines shrugged. “Are you avoiding my question?”

“You can read my report on it in the case files. Hank’s too.”

“The lieutenant has filed his own notes on the incident in record time for him, probably because he avoided any details. ‘Found the rest of Miles Jennings’ remains, and those of an android. Culprits seemed to have been trying to dispose of Jennings’ remains.’” The android quoted. Gavin glared over at the other side of the bullpen, where Hank had his headphones on and was in turn glaring at the rest of the office.

Fuckin’ typical.

He said, “The torso and neck were in a vat chemicals and dissolving. The android was thrown in there as well. Memory core missing, no clean thirium samples to take. Moving the android to see the memory core location is what I needed help with. It wasn’t pretty. Can we move on?”

The android’s LED flashed yellow for a few seconds and he said, “Of course - both the warm water and the chemicals present in the mouthwash would also dilute and destroy any thirium splatters in the bathroom. They must have been attacked at the same time.”

“Sure, whatever, write it up.” Gavin waved the android off, and went back to work. 

Gavin was about halfway done with his report (fully detailed, out of spite) when his stomach rumbled and he remembered that he had to eat. He checked the clock on his computer and was surprised when it told him that it was 2:00 pm. The fuckin’ morning had felt like an entire day. He closed his eyes when he stretched, and his brain presented him with the image of the rest of Miles Jennings dissolving in a vat of chemicals and he opened them again, feeling sick.

He went to the break room on autopilot. Some food and a cup of coffee would help (though he doubted he’d be able to have soup again). He also decided to shoot an email to his therapist and book a session. He had started going to counselling and therapy after his first rough case when it had been mandatory, then back in 2035 when Hank started going down hill he started going by choice (though to a different person, because the one working for the DPD didn’t “work well with him” - in Gavin’s opinion, the dude was an asshat.) Hank had been a perfect lesson in how not to deal with trauma, in Gavin’s opinion, and he knew therapy was one way not to end up like him.

He was writing the first line of the email when he felt a tug on the cuff of his jeans and he realized that he had forgotten something. Gavin ignored the second tug and continued with the email. Then he felt Nines start to climb up his leg, and had to resist the urge to shake the android off. It sort of reminded him of back when his cat, Ciri, was a kitten and liked to climb everything. He let the android pull himself up to his knee before he carefully pinched the android with his thumb and forefinger and lifted him onto the table.

Nines looked annoyed as he sidestepped closer to Gavin’s cup of coffee. “You left me,” he said.

“No, I forgot about you,” Gavin corrected the android. “Besides, you never come with me to lunch anyway.”

Nines looked away, “You never asked.”

“Whatever. Do you need something? I’m kinda busy.” Gavin reached for his coffee, took a sip, and put it back.

“I was uncomfortable with being left alone.” Nines folded his arms and shifted to one side on his feet.

Gavin narrowed his eyes slightly as he watched the android. No, he wasn’t mistaken. Nines leaned into the warmth radiated from his coffee cup. For a moment Gavin felt a twinge of guilt at the sight. It hadn’t occurred to him that the android had probably been chilled by the cold water rinse and the drive home in wet clothing. He had known that Connor had issues with keeping warm, but had forgotten that Nines would be affected too.

He grimaced as discomfort replaced the guilt. Before today he was used to thinking of Nines as just a machine (as androids were), a machine that thought and felt and had self worth issues, but really just some metal, plastic and wires that looked and acted humanlike. Nines now being doll-sized should have reinforced that way of thinking, but it had the opposite effect. 

Whenever he picked the android up he was made aware of just how ‘alive’ Nines was. He was warm, soft, fragile, his thirium pump gave him a heartbeat that Gavin could easily feel with his fingers. Fuck, he had managed to fuck up his arm, holding him wrong. It made him uncomfortable, to put it lightly. Before, Nines was an indestructible-yet-buggy robocop, yet another machine quietly replacing humanity and something that Gavin had to get used to. Now, he was a very destructible robot who seemed more alive and was unnervingly dependent on him. Helpless.

He asked, “Why weren’t you comfortable by yourself?”

“You know why.” Nines said, sounding both irritated and agitated. “You know how people treat Connor - and they don’t dislike him.”

“So you thought walking from our desks to the break room by yourself on a busy day would be safer.”

“Yes.”

“If you feel unsafe without me around, what are you planning on doing after work?” Gavin didn’t look up from his phone, focused on finishing the email.

Nines didn’t reply at first. Gavin glanced up from his phone as he hit send. The tiny android had a a neutral expression on his face, a look of calm betrayed by the red glow of his LED. Gavin had a bad feeling, and Nines’ next words confirmed it.

In a too calm, too flat voice the robot said, “Since I do not feel safe here and I cannot live in my own apartment, I was hoping to stay with you.”

“No.” Gavin said, and stood up. No goddamn way. There were boundaries that you don’t cross. He had already learned that the hard way. He looked down at Nines, who looked crestfallen. “We’re coworkers.” He said, his voice piano wire taut as his fought to control his emotions.

“Are we?” Nines asked in a dull, tired sounding voice. “You’ve made it clear on many occasions today that you’d rather not be working with me like this. I… I can understand if you decide to send me back to Mr. Kamski’s for the duration of my repairs.”

“You make it sound like a fucking death sentence.”

The android looked up at him, “Earlier today you said that my current life sounds depressing. Work, then home, then work again. At least it was a life. There, it’s just watching other people live.”

The android looked so goddamn sad as he said it, looked so pathetic and defeated where he stood on the table, that Gavin felt something in his annoyance and anger crack a little. He let his shoulders slump and he walked back to the table and picked up his cup of coffee and after a moment of hesitation offered a hand to Nines. The android’s LED cycled between red and yellow and he stepped on it, a curious but guarded look on his face.

Gavin carefully lifted him to his shoulder, wondering what the fuck he was doing. “Look, you’re not living with me. I’m not comfortable with it, I got a cat, it won’t work. But… I can work with you being teacup sized. It’s just a week, right?”

“Yes.” Nines said from his shoulder. The android stood there, and Gavin could feel him shift his balance as he moved back from the break room to the bullpen. “Where am I going to stay, though?”

“That’s your responsibility.” Gavin said, his voice firm. “I’m your partner, not your parent. I can tell that not much thinking was done here,” he paused as put his coffee down on his desk and sat down, then extended his arm so Nines could walk down it onto the surface, “… so start putting some thought in now. Got it?”

“Got it.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

One of the many benefits of being an android was that when it came time to fill out paperwork and write reports Connor could be done in minutes. 

There wasn’t much out of the ordinary for him to report from the preliminary investigation. It would be up to their superiors to hand it off to the FBI, if they decided to do that, or to tell them to continue investigating. The memory stick Nines had found was being scanned for viruses, as post revolution they were often being used as modes of transferring both harmful and benign malware (some viruses had similar effects in androids to psychoactive drugs in humans, and some androids used them to a similar recreational capacity.) When Connor finished his report he considered talking to Hank about what he and Gavin had investigated, but he was familiar enough with his partner’s moods to know that the lieutenant didn’t feel like talking.

He occupied his time for a couple of hours by reviewing and submitting reports and forms related to the February case. He also checked the status of his requests for information from some ex-CyberLife employees. Connor was hoping that they’d have information about who may have made his current model. No replies yet. He looked across the bullpen. Perhaps Nines was more willing to discuss what he had said earlier that day, but neither the other android nor his partner were there.

He decided instead to prepare for an appointment he and Hank had later that day. A legal framework giving androids the same rights and protections as humans was slowly being built, and in response the DPD was reopening some old android related cases to review them with the new laws in mind. Cases from before the rise of deviancy in 2038 were easy to work through, and many long days were spent at their desks doing just that.

He pulled up the appropriate files, and froze when he saw the surname of the witnesses he and Hank would be interviewing that day. _Phillips._ There were plenty of families with the name Phillips in Detroit, he tried to tell himself. Perhaps it was another family of the same name who had an android of their’s become deviant.

The date of the incident was marked August 15th, 2038. If Connor was human, his mouth would have gone dry. Either way, his hands shook a little as he remembered that night. He didn’t need to review the case. He had been there, and apart from CyberLife deleting a few select memories androids had perfect recall.

An alert in his HUD brought a welcome distraction. Nines hailed him from across the bullpen, and Connor acknowledged him with a hail back.

Through the network Nines began politely, “How are you doing?” Connor watched as he walked across his desk to go lean against his box of belongings.

“I’m fine, and you?” It was easy to sound calm and collected.

Nines didn’t catch his lie. It was hard to see one another’s expression from so far away, after all. “I am doing better. I do need a favour, if it isn’t too much to ask.”

“What do you need?” Connor tipped his head as Detective Reed checked his phone, then stood up and walked to Fowler’s office.

“Though Gavin has agreed to let me keep working as his partner, I still need a place to stay while I’m this size. Gavin refused, and I’m wondering if you and Hank would be willing to accommodate me.” Nines words sped up as he spoke, and Connor found himself surprised. He sounded nervous. 

Connor thought about it. He was still nonplussed about the other android’s change in units, and he still felt as if he needed to prove himself against the upgraded version of him. On the other hand, he knew why staying at the DPD was not an option over night, and could guess why Nines couldn’t go home. “I’d have to ask Hank first,” he finally responded.

“That is understandable. Thank you, Connor.”

Connor looked to Hank, who had his headphones playing familiar metal loud enough for Connor to hear and a dark look on his face. “Don’t thank me yet.”

He walked across his desk, past their shared bonsai onto Hank’s desk-space. Hank didn’t react, and Connor couldn’t tell if Hank hadn’t noticed him or was ignoring him. Hoping it was the former Connor waved to get his partner’s attention. After a few moments Hank lowered his headphones and glanced down at Connor.

“What?”

Connor winced internally. “Nines does not have a place to stay for the night, and is wondering if he could stay with us?”

Hank arched an eyebrow, “Not gonna be staying with Reed or here?”

“According to Nines Gavin has refused to let him stay with him… and you know why he can’t stay here, Hank. I know it’s your house, but I do owe him a favour.” Connor said the last part softly. That late night a few days before wasn’t the first time Nines had stood up for him. 

Hank shook his head, “Fine. It’s not like he’ll take up much room.”

Connor relayed the good news to Nines while Hank moved his focus back to his computer.

Hank said, “So the next interviews should be interesting. Your activation day.”

Connor resisted the urge to fold his arms. “Yes. If it’s okay with you, lieutenant, I’d rather not… well, that is… I don’t feel comfortable with interviewing the Phillips family.”

“If I had a nickel for every time I had to do something I wasn’t comfortable with as a detective I wouldn’t need this job.” Hank said dryly. “Worried that you won’t be able to be objective?”

“No, it’s not that, it’s…” Connor’s hands were shaking again. His mind brought up images, memories. The first time he was shot at. The second time he was shot at. Poor choices, the wrong words said. Running, falling. He balled his hands into fists. “Hank, I-I nearly failed. I died, and if I had been too slow she would have - I can’t see them again. Please.”

“Connor…” Hank shook his head, “Look, I know it ain’t easy, but you’re gonna have to do it. Grow a thicker skin, harden your heart, whatever. This is part of the process.”

Process of what? Become tougher? Becoming jaded? The process of processing these cases? Connor tried again, “Please Hank, I can’t-“

“No.” Hank raised a hand to stop him, “For fuck’s sake, Connor, you’re a cop. Go calm yourself down, I need to… Well, here comes Reed and our guest.”

Connor took a deep breath and turned to watch the other detective walk over with Nines’ box of belongings and the other android sitting on it. The box was placed on Connor’s desk, and Detective Reed gave each of them a nod.

Hank narrowed his eyes as he began to walk off, “Where the hell are you going?”

“Got an appointment. You sure you wanna stay with them, Nines?” Gavin’s voice had a note of contempt in it that made Hank bristle.

“I’m certain, but thank you for your concern.” Nines said smoothly.

Hank snorted, “At least we’re willing to take on the responsibility.” Gavin stalked off, and Hank looked past his monitor at the other android, “Speaking of which, Connor and I have some people coming in to talk with. Are you okay with twiddling your thumbs for a bit?”

Nines nodded an affirmative.

Hank looked back down at Connor, “Go chat with Nines or something. Calm down, make yourself presentable. I’ve got some files to read.”

Connor slumped his shoulders and looked down at the desktop. “As you wish, lieutenant.”

He walked back to his desk and tried to find his professional calm again. He heard Nines jump down from his box and move to stand beside him. Connor remained silent, but watched out of the corner of his eye as Nines took in the view of his desk from this perspective. When Connor started working at the DPD he had meant to keep a clear work space, but things quietly piled up. Notes with lists of lawyers, mechanics and other services willing to help androids pro-bono. Notices about different helplines and resources for deviants. His badge, now that he was too small to carry it. Pictures of him at different events, from the DPD Christmas party to a more recent charity art auction (he hadn’t counted as Markus’s plus one, perched on his shoulder.) A drawing and letter from Tabitha, from her new home. A service award.

Still, even with all of these things serving as reminders of both past joys and present struggles, his mind returned to the memory of the failed negotiation. 

Nines put a hand on his shoulder. “Your stress levels are very high,” the other android murmured. He offered his hand, the skin peeled back, “May I?”

Connor took it, unsure of what to expected. In a blink he was on a park bench, feeding pigeons and enjoying the weak warmth of the March sunlight. Nines’ memories. The memory shifted, and then he was petting a cat outside of an apartment complex. Out of the corner of his eye he could see some humans eyeing him warily, but Nines ignored them. The memory shifted again and now he was seated in a squad car. The radio was turned up and Gavin was singing off-key under his breath. Connor could feel Nines struggle not to smirk at the sight.

Then, abruptly, the memory ended and Connor was back in the real world. He felt - he felt calmed, relaxed, but Nines looked shocked. His grey eyes, wide and wild, locked onto his and Connor knew. He stepped backwards, away from the other android. Nines had viewed his memories, had experienced what happened to him that night. He wanted to tell him off for the invasion of privacy, but the slight tremble in the other android’s hands stopped him. He had just experienced what it was like to fall for seven seconds with his mind being a computer so well designed that when its body had nothing to do it spent those seven seconds calculating how long it would take him to fall, how hard he would hit the ground, and what he should have done to avoid that situation, that _it wasn’t fair_ that he experienced this on his first hour alive.

Connor said, “I’m sorry.”

A notification popped up in his HUD. They had reviewed those memories in real time - the Phillips were now there. Nines walked to his box and sat against it, his shoulders sagging. His LED spun yellow, but Connor would have to trust that he would be alright. He slowly made his way over to Hank’s desk.

“The Phillips are here now.” Connor said in a quiet voice. “I’m… I am feeling slightly calmer.”

Hank just grunted in response. From what Connor could tell, his partner’s mood had worsened in the mean time. Connor sent a message to the android working at the front desk, told her to let the Phillips in. He smoothed his jacket, adjusted his tie, and steeled himself. Anticipating an event is worse than experiencing it, he reminded himself.

Caroline Phillips was the first of the two to enter the precinct. Connor remembered how she begged him to save her daughter, her horror when she realized that he too was an android.

Then Emma walked in. She seemed taller to Connor, and not just because he was smaller. Her hair was shorter. She followed close behind her mother. Connor remembered how light she had been when he had pulled her from Daniel’s grip, back onto the roof as he tossed himself off of the building with the deviant. The two of them were directed to Hank’s desk, and both looked hesitant as they walked up to meet his undoubtedly surly partner.

Connor could do this. It was just an interview, and they were both here, and they were alright. He was alright too.

He stood up straighter, folded his hands behind his back, smiled and said, “Thank you for coming in today. My name is Connor, you might recognize me.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

The life of Miles Jennings wasn’t particularly nice, nor particularly unique. The only son of a deadbeat, whose mother had left at the earliest opportunity and left her son behind. School records indicate that he was bright, but troubled. Suspended a few times, expelled once. He started his drug habits young and dropped out of high school to start his life as a criminal. Minor things at first, then some incidents connected him with more major activity, all involving synthetic drugs. Then he dropped off of the record all together. Some may have thought he died. Hank knew that gangs who produced and sold red ice were protective of their cooks.

The Redells in particular were very careful about who knew what when it came to producing and distributing their product. Customers knew their dealer, but didn’t know the dealer’s supplier. The supplier knew who to talk to get their product, but didn’t know who in particular cooked it. Most cooks didn’t care, as long as they got a cut of profit and product. Miles Jennings on the other hand, kept notes. If the Redells had known about those notes they would have killed him, but then the androids revolted. Things shifted. Jennings saw a changing market and a new opportunity, and met the DA with a little black book and a scheme to make a thirium alternative, to do his part for the androids.

Hank remembered when he heard about one of the Redells’ cooks cutting a deal with the government and with Jericho. He had been pissed, he built his career on getting these fuckers behind bars, his son had been killed by an addict’s negligence. For a time Jennings had represented everything he hated. The corruption. The deceit. The willingness to take advantage of people. But he swallowed his anger and let it pass, because he had another person to care about. Connor and the other androids would benefit from his work.

And now Jennings was dead. 

Hank couldn’t say that had upset him too much. What had got the dark thoughts buzzing, what made the desire to burn it away with booze so strong, stronger than him, was the android. AP700, probably one of the many awoken by Connor. When he had helped Gavin find the memory core port he had hit something and accidentally reactivated it. It was muffled and choked by the slurry it had been sitting in, but the android had wheezed out one word of genuine emotion. _”Please_. Then it had gone back to factory settings, and then Hank had turned it off. Reed didn’t know about that, he had walked off when Hank said the core was gone. Kid had been dry heaving. Only Hank had heard it, and he wasn’t certain if he had heard it.

It shook him up, though. Sometimes his head would show him Connor like that, damaged beyond repair and reporting his damage in a pleasant, conversational tone, all things that made him him replaced with a factory default. Sometimes he wondered what that poor android’s last moments had been, that had been so strong that his last words had survived without his memory. What was he begging for? Mercy? Hank needed a drink.

And of course after seeing all that he had to deal with the reparations bullshit and meet the Phillips and read CyberLife’s short report about Connor’s first hour of existence. Even the way the report had labeled its sections bugged the fuck out of Hank: Activation, Calibration, Transportation, Investigation, Negotiation, Destruction. The footnote of ‘despite the total destruction of the unit, both the mission and the memory back up tests were successful. Project RK800 can continue moving forward.’ His partner, his friend, and lived and died in less than an hour, and that was his first impression of life. The kid had looked ready to have a melt down, but he had managed to pull himself together.

Hank wished he could do that.

Hank was relieved to be headed home as he packed up his stuff and grabbed Nines’ box of things with the two androids sitting on it. Both of them also seemed to be drained from the day’s events. Hank felt he should at least try to see how Connor was feeling, but he didn’t want to. He was tired and dealing with his own stress. The thought made him feel guilty, but that wasn’t anything new. He placed the box on the passenger seat and thought about moving the androids to some place more secure in the car, but they seemed content to lean on each other, LED’s both cycling yellow.

On any other day Hank might have taken a picture. It was nice that they were getting along better, at least. Nines still creeped him out a little, but maybe Connor could use more android company in his life. Someone to look after, like a younger brother.

The drive home was uneventful, and Sumo was happy to see them when they got home. Hank gave the dog a small smile as he put the box on the kitchen counter and said, “We have a guest, buddy.”

“Thank you, once again, for letting me stay with you.” Nines said, breaking the silence between the two androids. He and Connor stood up, but while Connor smiled at the sight of the dog, Nines’ eyes widened and he stepped back from the edge of the box and the counter.

Hank turned his attention to the fridge. He pulled out a container of leftover stir fry and tried to ignore the beer he saw sitting in the back. He put his supper in the microwave and turned his attention to the two androids, who had jumped off of the box and stood quietly on the counter.

“You two need anything?” He asked.

“I’m fine, Hank.” Connor said. He sounded tired, but there was something else in his voice that made Hank believe him. 

Nines pursed his lips and said, “I don’t want to impose, but I will need help with setting up my charging station.”

“I’ll let Sumo out and we can figure that out.” Hank needed to keep busy, keep a bit distracted.

The first couple of hours of the evening progressed the same way. Nines subdued and quiet, Connor tired and thoughtful, Hank looking for ways to distract himself. They got Nines’ charger set up (it was like a standard phone charger that you’d plug into the wall and then directly into the robot, and apparently would work faster than the charging pad), gave him a tour of the house. Hank ate his supper and cleaned up some dishes. Connor showed off his current project to Nines: finding whoever made the RK800-S.

Hank had put the game on the TV and went to the fridge to get a glass of water. The beer was still there, since there was no one else to drink it. His throat felt dry. He hadn’t had enough alcohol to even get drunk since February, since before Connor had been shot and placed into his current miniature body. He hadn’t even had a beer since they brought in Victoria. He had wanted to, desperately, but he needed to be there for Connor, be coherent and sober. He had already failed the kid once, let him get stolen. Things were pretty good now, though. Connor was used to functioning on his own in the house, he could even get baths and stuff ready on his own.

Hank stared at the bottles as his willpower fought with the desire to drown out the stress with the familiar safety of drunken numbness. It was hard fight, a good fight, and he almost won.

Then he grabbed the beers and went to sit on the couch.

Both of the androids were on the coffee table, watching a movie. Hank recognized it immediately - Bladerunner. It kinda surprised him, partially because he thought that sort of media was going to be taken off the air for a bit as hostilities between humans and androids remained, and partially because he didn’t think the two androids were be interested in watching a human hunt down replicants. He’d have figured that Deckard’s job as a Bladerunner would have at least hit too close to home with the ex-deviant hunter.

What made Connor flinch, though, was the sound of Hank popping the cap off of his beer bottle. He turned around, and his eyes narrowed as he spotted the other bottles Hank had brought with him.

He said, “Do you plan on drinking all of those?”

“Yeah.” Hank took a good long gulp, “Don’t worry, it takes more than this to get me drunk.”

Connor folded his arms and frowned, “Are you certain that’s a good idea? You’ve been sober for a while now.”

“Connor, calm the fuck down. It’s just a couple beers.” Hank snapped, and felt guilty almost immediately. He could have sworn that CyberLife gave him those brown puppy eyes for manipulation, because the hurt in them felt like a punch in the gut.

What he said next felt even worse, “I just don’t want to watch you harm yourself, lieutenant. I know that’s why you drink.” The words were plaintive and quiet, and made Hank feel like an ass and pissed him off.

He set the bottle down hard on the coffee table, hard enough to jolt both androids, and stood up. He grabbed his car keys from the counter, then headed back to the living room. Connor watched him with a confused and somewhat fearful expression, which made the guilt dig into Hank even more. He had earned that look from his partner, who knew that he was a mean drunk. Fuck, he was worse sober.

He closed his eyes to think about what he was doing, and images of both Connor dead on the pavement and that android at Jennings place stared back at him.

“Are you planning on going somewhere, lieutenant?” Nines asked. His voice was calm and diplomatic.

Hank opened his eyes again. Both androids stared up at him, Connor looking more worried and Nines looking mildly concerned. Connor’s LED was cycling between yellow and red, and Hank knew he was thinking about what happened last time he left him alone in the house.

But he wasn’t alone now, was he?

“He said he didn’t want to watch me drink, so I figured I’d go out to the bar and do it, make him happy,” Hank said.

Connor stood ramrod straight, “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Well, you won’t be seeing it if I go out.”

“Hank, I don’t want you to hurt yourself, you know that. You know that the alcohol is killing you, you told me that. There’s better ways to handle trauma -“

“For fuck’s sake, don’t lecture me about dealing with ‘trauma’. I’m not the one who had a panic attack today over talking to a little girl.” Hank snarled, and watched the words hit Connor like a punch.

The android’s LED cycled from red to blue. In a clipped tone he said, “Very well. If you want to go out, go out. It might be better if you do.”

He knew what he was supposed to do then. He was supposed to try and take back the words, take the beers and pour them down the drain, promise to go to a therapist, talk it out with Connor, apologize, etcetera. That was all that he was supposed to do, but he was tired of doing the hard thing, of being the rock when he himself was crumbling.

He said, “Thank you for your permission,” in the most sardonic tone he could muster, then walked out the door and slammed it behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Christ, what have you done?_
> 
> Title taken from 'The Pass' by Rush. Hank's section was also took some inspiration from the song.
> 
> So, it's been a couple months. Originally I wanted to write something funny and witty about why this took so long, but the long and short of it is that I got a new job and moved to a whole new town. I didn't handle the change to my routine well and fell back into the familiar 'do-nothingisms' and doldrums of depression, and slowly ground out this chapter while learning how to adapt to my new life. This is about the fifth version of this chapter, and the only version I could bring myself to write and finish.
> 
> I do truly love and appreciate every comment I get. They help me keep moving forward, help bolster me when I'm down.
> 
> Hopefully the next chapter won't take so fucking long.


	3. Personal Responsibility, Personal Responsibility

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A night's mistakes lead to a morning apart for Hank and Connor. Gavin is forced to confront a piece of his own past, while Nines finds that being small continues to not be what he was expecting.

The house was dead silent in the wake of the door slamming shut. Connor wished he could take the words back, or that he could run after him, stop him before he got to the car. Instead he stared past the couch at the closed door and listened as Hank’s care turned on and pulled out of the driveway, as his friend drove off to god knows where to get drunk, while he was incapable of stopping him. The burst of anger he felt after Hank had mocked his anxiety had felt so righteous at the time, but now it was gone and he felt brittle, hollow.

Nines put a hand on his shoulder. “I -“

“Don’t.” Connor slumped his shoulders but didn’t shake off the other android’s gesture. “I learned early on that I could count on not being able to count on Hank. It’s…” Resentment, frustration, guilt, and worry made him stumble of his thoughts and words and he just said, “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“I don’t mind. Do you think he will be alright?”

Several petty, mean things leapt to Connor’s mind, all of them about Hank’s experience with being a drunk. He bit them back and said, “I don’t know.” He shook his head, as if it would shake away the worry. “Neither of us have been the best hosts so far, I’m sorry for that as well.” He leaned to step away.

Nines put his other hand on his other shoulder and forced him to look at him, “Are you alright?” His grey eyed gaze was intense and serious.

“No.” Connor decided to be frank. “No, I’m not. But I can handle being not alright… Which reminds me - how are you doing?”

Nines’ hands dropped to his sides, and he looked away, “Why do you ask?”

“You seemed upset this morning… and you viewed my memories of my activation day. Without my permission, I might add.” Connor crossed his arms.

“Are you trying to talk to me about my emotions to avoid discussing your own?” Nines asked.

“We’ve established that I’m not alright, but that I can handle it. There’s not much left to discuss.” Connor let some of his frustration slip into his voice. “I can understand not wanting to talk about them, but I feel like I’m to blame for some of your own distress.”

Nines walked away from him, to the edge of the coffee table. He sat down there, and let his legs dangle over the edge. Connor followed him, and stopped in his tracks when he began to speak.

“When I lived with Elijah Kamski I was instructed not to leave the property, out of concern that CyberLife might still be seeking me. I passed the time with books and conversation with Chloe, but it was more like the time was passing me. If people came to visit I was told to stay in one of the guest rooms and not leave until they were gone. On one such day I had forgotten to bring a book with me, so I watched the TV that was in the room. A report came on, about you. It was about your appearance at an android rights rally. The reporter wanted to stir up fear, tried to paint you as a radical, as a danger to society, and wanted you to stand down from your new position as a detective at the DPD.”

Connor remembered that report well. It had occurred in December, a week before Christmas. He sat down beside Nines. The report had done its job and had stirred up enough outrage that an ultimatum had been passed down to him from the DA and the commissioner: either he stopped being a vocal, public figure in the android right’s movement or he stopped working for the DPD. He chose to protect his people, the best way he knew how.

Nines continued, “I had already known about you before that, of course, through CyberLife and through conversations with Chloe. But that report made you real: revolutionary leader, infiltrator, freer of thousands of androids, detective, citizen of Detroit. I followed reports about your cases, I read every article I could find featuring you. My predecessor. It made me want to leave the mansion, to experience life instead of watch it go by. When you got kidnapped, I had to help find you, even if it meant going against Kamski’s instructions. I wanted to meet you desperately, even if it meant Kamski forbidding me from ever leaving the mansion again…. Or if it meant dying.”

“Oh.” Connor blinked. “I didn’t realize -“

Nines cut him off, “I got to meet you and Hank, and eventually we got to work together. I had… I had high hopes about what would happen, and I’ve been treated with dislike and distrust. Maybe there was something wrong with you. Maybe there’s something wrong with me, being the replacement. The upgrade. The only person to treat me as just… _me_ was Gavin, and now I’ve screwed that up.” He looked at his hands. Connor had to admit hearing that Nines saw Gavin of all people as kinder than him stung. “Then I saw the how stressed you were about the Phillips family, and your memories, and I realized I had put you up on a pedestal and didn’t see you for you.” He turned to look at Connor, “I’m sorry.”

Connor looked him in the eyes, “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have treated you poorly because of what your purpose was - I of all people should understand how that feels. My insecurities don’t excuse my behaviour… Especially since you still helped me. I’ve never properly thanked you for helping me when Person had me cornered in the break room, or when you protected me a few nights ago.” He paused and looked away at the empty house. Both androids flinched when a gust of wind blew and made the walls creak. “Do you want to start over?”

“I think it’s a little late for that, but I would like to move forward.” Nines stood up, and offered Connor a hand.

Connor took it and let Nines help pull him up. “That sounds good to me.” He crossed his arms and looked around the living room. It was too quiet, too empty without Hank. He looked back to Nines, who had the slightest smile on his face.

The smile faded and Nines said, “You’re worried about Lieutenant Anderson still.”

“Yes, but it’s not just that.” Connor admitted, “We’re pretty defenceless, alone.”

“Do you want to call someone?” Nines asked. He added, “I could call Gavin -“

“No, no, that’s fine. The DPD offered covering the costs of upgrading the house’s security after I was taken. I just worry, anyway.”

“It’s understandable.”

Connor nodded absently. He just needed a distraction. He looked at Nines, and even though he could already guess the answer he asked, “Do you play chess?”

The other android’s smirk was all the answer he needed.

An hour of stalemates passed before they decided to watch a movie (a cheerier movie than what they had been watching before), which ate up some more time. Both the games and the film did take his mind partially off of Hank’s absence, but the guilt and worry remained. He should have seen that his partner needed help. He shouldn’t have been so wrapped up in his own problems.

His metaphorical heart leapt when he a familiar heavy metal riff played in his mind and Hank’s caller ID appeared in his HUD.

He answered, “Hank! I was worried, I -“

“Heeey, Connor, how’re ya doing?” The lieutenant’s words were so slurred it sounded more like _heeeyconnowreyadoing_.

Connor was taken aback. “I-“

“Look, I, I need a favour. I’m… I’m at a park. You know the park, I took you there before. You can see the bridge. Ummm… Shit, what was I going to ask - wait, yeah! I need a ride home. Can you come over here and drive me back? Car’s here, just…”

Connor didn’t trust himself to speak.

“Just can’t drive it right now, you know.”

The brittle feeling came back. “I’m afraid I can’t do that, Hank. But, if you’re so drunk that you can’t remember _why_ I can’t drive you home, then you should definitely not drive. There’s a patrol car near by, I will send them your way.”

“What, no, I don’t want anyone from work finding out about this -“

Connor hung up on him, then muted any future calls or texts from him. He stared at a patch of the wall above the TV and focused on it. He didn’t want to think or feel right then.

“Are you okay?” Nines asked. The question surprised Connor, jolted him.

He shook his head. “No.” He walked to the edge of the coffee table. “I’m going to bed.”

Nines called after him, “I’ll stay here until Hank comes home, then. I’ll alert you when that happens.”

Connor looked back at him, “Nines… Thank you. You don’t have to, you know. You’ve already done so much.”

“It’s the right thing to do.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Hank kicked his car’s tire in frustration.

He regretted it immediately because the tires had been recently filled and the rubber wall wasn’t pliant. The pain in his toes was a little sobering, but not as much as Connor’s words had been. He was drunk, drunk enough to forget that his partner was fucking pocket sized. Well, that had been the point of this whole adventure, hadn’t it? He wanted to forget. Forget his stress with Connor, forget the dead android from that morning, forget that he was a washed out piece of garbage who drove after getting half cut at the bar, because he decided he couldn’t tolerate all the people there and needed to be alone with a bottle of Black Lamb. His son had died in a goddamn road accident and he drove while drunk because fuck everyone else and their kids, right?

Fucking hypocrite.

No, the point of going was because he was mad at everything and especially himself, and he had decided to take it out on Connor. Spite him. Connor, Mr. Goody Two Shoes who didn’t want to see him get drunk. Asshole, what the fuck did he know about anything. But he was right, wasn’t he? He had been sober for almost a month and then he had ruined it, like he ruined most things. Hank swayed on his feet and he leaned against his car. Being this drunk was becoming less fun and more like being trapped on an amusement park ride he couldn’t get off of. 

He tried to open his car’s door and realized that going from standing mostly still to moving was not a good idea, and groaned as his stomach did flips and threatened to give most of his booze to the ground. This had been a bad idea, a very bad idea. He didn’t need to sit in his car as he waited for his ride. He snorted disdainfully as he thought about it. Lieutenant Hank Anderson, delivered home in the back of a patrol car. He’d be lucky if they didn’t decide to put him in the drunk tank instead. Maybe that’d do him some good, spending a night with all the people like him who didn’t get to hide behind a badge.

Stupid asshole. How the fuck was he still allowed to work, he didn’t deserve it. Most of his cases were only closed now because he had been given a walking, talking super computer who had been designed to be a detective as a partner. Oh, Connor. He didn’t deserve Connor, and the android had done nothing to deserve being saddled with him. He was supposed to take care of him. How was he supposed to take care of him when he was a selfish, drunken piece of shit?

Who was supposed to take care of Hank?

Hank shook his head. No one. He didn’t need to be taken cared of, he didn’t deserve care either. His stomach and most of his sense of balance didn’t appreciate the head shake and he found in himself in the precarious position of throwing up all over the ground while fighting to stay upright because holy fuck, the world was spinning. He managed to win that fight and leaned against his car. His head hurt in a sharp, familiar way. The fuzzy, sour taste in his mouth was like an old companion. This… this wasn’t anything new and it was familiar and awful and he didn’t know how to not be like this.

He fumbled for his phone. He had Connor on speed dial, even though he was still very drunk it wasn’t hard to call him again. Connor didn’t answer. Hank didn’t leave a message. Instead he sent a text.

_i dbmywa nt to be ;old thsi._

That wasn’t right, or coherent. He tried again, and focused.

_i dont want to be like this_

_im sorry i really am_

_i want to be beter but i dont kno how_

He wanted to take back the texts as soon as he sent them, but he didn’t know if he could delete texts sent to androids. Or how to delete texts from his phone.

Connor didn’t text him back. Hank stared at the puddle of vomit at his feet, mostly to keep an eye on it because he couldn’t really see it in the shadow of his car cast by the streetlights. Seconds, minutes, maybe longer passed before an a patrol car pulled up beside where he stood. A couple of officers who he didn’t recognize stepped out, and helped him into the back seat. They said some things to him, but he didn’t pay attention. He did notice their expressions though. Pitying. Disappointed.

Fuck their disappointment. Boohoo, so he didn’t live up to their overblown expectations of him. And fuck their pity to - no, scratch that. He caught a glimpse of his faint reflection in the window. Fuck him, but he was pitiable. He looked like shit - dark circles under his eyes, a string of vomit drool from his mouth down his chin onto his coat. He trained his gaze on his lap instead.

They made it home. One officer stayed in the car, the other helped him back to his door and helped him unlock it. The lights were still on. He could hear Sumo snoring softly from his dog bed. He was feeling more steady on his feet and he made his way to his kitchen. He grabbed a glass from a cupboard and filled it in the sink. He drank the first glass slowly, and refilled it. Then he noticed the android who stood on the counter, watching him.

His first instinct was to drop the glass and scoop the android in a hug and apologize, but he hesitated, because he didn’t want to deal with a shattered glass on top of everything else. Putting the cup down gave him enough time to study the android and notice that this one had grey eyes. Not Connor - Nines.

“Where’s Connor?” He asked.

“He’s charging, in your room. It’s good to see you home safe.” Nines was polite and watched him with a careful expression. “How are you feeling?”

“I’ve been better.” Hank mumbled. “Why are you still up?”

“It seemed pertinent to have one of us keep watch while we were by ourselves.” Nines said, then walked away from Hank along the counter to where his own charger was. “You may wish to clean yourself up before resting, but I would advise against having a bath or shower so you can avoid falling.”

Hank waved him off, “Yeah, yeah, I know. I’ve done this before.”

“I know.”

Asshole. Probably Gavin who filled his head with stories of ‘Hank the drunk, Hank always reeking of booze.’ Hank glared down at the android, warm, familiar anger bubbling up through his guilt and self pity. He slapped his hand down on the counter beside Nines and said, “Fuck off. You don’t know anything about me.”

Nines didn’t flinch, didn’t even blink. He met Hank’s glare with cool stare of his own. “I wouldn’t say that. I think I’ve learned plenty about you tonight, Lieutenant.”

He wanted to wipe that even look off of the robot’s face. Who the fuck was it to judge him - his hand, still on the counter, curled into a fist. He could crush him like a can. _Do it._ They were right, after all, Reed and Nines. He was a useless, drunk, angry piece of shit. Why not show them how much of one he was? Then he remembered what he sent to Connor, and the anger left him. What had he been thinking? He turned away from the android.

As he left the kitchen Nines called, “Good night, lieutenant.” 

He went to bathroom, washed his face off with cold water, took off his jacket and pants and then headed to his bedroom. Connor was on his bedside table. He watched Hank as he entered, eyes slightly narrowed, his expression otherwise neutral. 

Hank sat down on his bed, opened his mouth to apologize.

Connor cut him off, “I’m glad that you’re safe, Hank.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

“I… I don’t want to be like this.”

“I know.” Connor’s gaze flicked away from him for a second, then he looked back at him. “I’m sorry, too. I should have noticed that you needed help.”

“I don’t - I do need help, but that’s…” Hank rubbed his forehead. He didn’t know what to think. His brain seemed to pound with his heartbeat in his skull.

Connor looked at him sadly. “Good night, Hank.” He then laid down again, his LED cycling a gentle deep blue.

Hank wished he could fall asleep that easily.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Gavin had gotten a text at some point after midnight from Nines. It had been short and to the point, stating that Hank was indisposed and that he and Connor would require a ride to work from someone other than him tomorrow. Gavin was Nines’s first pick. Gavin knew what indisposed probably meant, and that he was probably Connor’s last pick when it came to asking for favours. At first he had been annoyed because the text had woken him up, but then he reminded himself that he had agreed to keep Nines on and had told Nines to find someone to stay with.

It wasn’t his fault that the android picked a flaky old man and someone as helpless as him, but Gavin was gonna have to be responsible for looking out for his partner. Though the detour was gonna put some extra dollars on his taxi fare that he didn’t want to spend.

A light drizzle made him wish that he had brought an umbrella as he walked up to Hank’s front door and knocked. No one answered, and Gavin wasn’t sure about what he had been expecting, given that the house’s occupants were a passed out drunk, two tiny androids and a dog. His phone buzzed; a text from Nines. There was a key under the welcome mat. Of course.

As soon as he opened the door he was assaulted by two sets of snores. The first came from Hank’s dog, which was thankfully asleep on its bed (not that he’d ever tell anyone, but Gavin found large dogs intimidating.) The second set was more distant and muffled, and was the tell-tale snore of someone who had gone to bed hammered. Gavin shook his head with a grimace. Today would be yet another 2:00pm start for Hank. His first in a while. Old patterns, old habits.

The resentment brought back a memory. Not that long after Cole had died he and Hank had been paired for a small case. Botched store robbery, cashier killed. It was a cut and dry case, and the older detective had nearly fucked the whole thing up by turning up to work hungover and misfiling some evidence. Captain Fowler covered his ass, of course, and Gavin had run himself into the ground fixing that mess.

Gavin forced the thoughts out of his head and walked to the kitchen, where the two androids stood ready to go on the counter. Connor seemed downcast. Nines had his usual detached indifference.

“Thank you for picking us up.” Nines said with a faint smile. 

“I’m sorry that Hank…” Connor trailed off and shook his head.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Hank can pay for the fare.” Gavin brushed both of them off, feeling uncomfortable. He held out his hands for either android to step onto, and lifted them to his shoulders. Connor sat down and dug his fingers into his jacket, while Nines stood. 

The set up made Gavin all too aware and focused on every step he took, every time he leaned forwards or backwards while leaving the house and locking the door behind him. He pocketed the key, he could return it to Hank later. They rode in the taxi to the precinct in awkward silence… or at least, awkward silence on his part. For all he knew the two androids were talking about him with their telepathy.

Now that was an uncomfortable thought. He was grateful that the city wasn’t too busy in the early morning, and that the reception area was mostly empty when he walked through with both of the tiny androids. He got some side-eye from the receptionist, but he ignored him.

“Can you take me to speak with Captain Fowler?” Connor asked in a small voice when they entered the bullpen.

“Sure. You mind waiting at our desks?” That question was directed to his right shoulder, where Nines stood. 

“Not at all.” Nines said.

Gavin knew that he didn’t imagine it when Nines tensed as Gavin grabbed him. He kept his grip loose and careful as he sat the android down on the desk. The sound his partner had made the day before when his shoulder dislocated was still seared into Gavin’s mind and although Nines had claimed to feel no pain, that sound alone had begged to differ.

The captain dismissed him with a sharp jerk of his chin when he brought Connor into his office and put the android on his desk, though Gavin could tell by the tired look on Fowler’s face alone that he had guessed what all of this was about. Gavin retreated back to his own desk. He paused when he saw the receptionist turn around and walk back out front as he stepped out of Fowler’s office, and felt a twist of dread when he saw Nines standing alone on his desk, arms folded, shoulders hunched.

“You okay?” Gavin asked. He didn’t know what could have happened in the short time he was gone, but he remembered the receptionist from that night when Connor had asked Nines to watch his back as he rested.

Nines cocked his head and looked up at him, “I’m well enough. Why do you ask?”

“I… never mind.” He didn’t feel like telling the android how close he might have been to an awkward encounter, or worse. “Just know that you don’t like being alone.”

“You were gone for only just over a minute.”

“I know.” Gavin turned his attention to his monitor, hoping that would end the exchange.

“Thank you for your concern.” Nines said, and Gavin had to bite his tongue against his instinctive response. Nines sounded genuine and hadn’t done anything to warrant his abrasiveness.

There were no updates about the state of the homicide the day before, but a backlog of paperwork kept him and Nines busy enough until Fowler paged the android.

“He’d like both of us to join him in his office.” Nines informed him.

“Wonder what’s going on. He didn’t broadcast it to the whole room.” Gavin said dryly. He offered Nines a hand, and the android climbed on it, then climbed his arm before Gavin could lift him to his shoulder. Gavin suppressed a shudder. It still felt so weird.

Fowler handed him a tablet when he took a seat in front of the captain’s desk, where Connor still stood, his face neutral. Gavin barely had a chance to look at it before the captain began to speak.

“I was planning on handing this off to Lieutenant Anderson and Connor this morning, but it seems that won’t be the case. Instead, Connor is going to spend today performing his liaison duties to Jericho, and you two will go.” He brought up an image on one of his many monitors. Pictures taken of a dead, mutilated android, dated the day before.

What made Gavin tense was the address of the murder. Just west of Grosse Pointe Park. Fifth precinct’s purview.

Captain Fowler seemed to sense his sudden tension, and said, “You’ll be assisting officers at the Fifth with investigation techniques related to androids. You’ll be back at your old stomping grounds, Reed.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

The quiet workspace that Connor had been given in North’s office for his duties as the DPD liaison looked uncluttered and calm, but that was only thanks to the wonders of modern technology. Where paper stacks of complaints, files, and requests may have once sat was only a tablet, carrying a cache of data large enough to keep him busy for over an hour. Connor appreciated that. He wanted to be busy that morning. It kept him from his worries and his thoughts.

Then North came in, scooped up the tiny android, and took him away from his work.

“Where are we going?” Connor asked in a weary tone, knowing that resistance was futile.

“Today’s Wednesday,” she said, and placed him on her shoulder as she strolled out of the office.

“…. Yes, I’m aware of that.” Connor nodded to an android who waved at him as they passed. They were one of the many he freed at CyberLife Tower, a group that who sometimes called themselves ‘the Connor Generation’, to his embarrassment.

He and North went down a flight of stairs and turned down a hallway that had several classrooms and meeting rooms. She said, “On Wednesdays and Saturdays I help run a support group. Mediate, help people stay focused. We talk about things like emotional issues, struggles with integration, things that we might need advice with, things we want to vent about.”

“That doesn’t sound like your sort of thing… no offence.”

“It wasn’t, but everyone else was either too busy or didn’t want to do it, or were too scared to take the lead.” She stopped in front of one door. Connor could see a group of androids already assembled there, arranging chairs in a circle. “It fell on my lap, and after a couple meetings I realized I liked it.”

Connor then asked, “Why bring me?”

“Two reasons: one, people like seeing you. The liaison thing helps, but you haven’t been here for any reason other than official business,” North said.

Connor frowned. He knew that he could visit more, but he honestly doubted that people wanted to see him here more often. There would always be some androids who still saw him as the deviant hunter, and he couldn’t blame them.

As if she had read his mind, North continued, “Reason two is because I think you can benefit from it as well. I know you still blame yourself for the destruction of the first Jericho, and for everything the DPD does or doesn’t do with androids.”

“I can’t talk about police business with civilians.” Connor said.

“Fine, but you can talk about other things. Or not talk at all, just listen for today.” North said, opened the door and stepped into the room. Connor briefly entertained the idea of jumping from her shoulder and running, but he doubted that he would get very far and the eyes of all the androids in the room were on them anyway. North shut the door behind her, which ended all hope of escape.

The assembled androids all took a seat, and North pulled up an extra chair and put Connor on it. He shot her a look as she took a seat beside him. There was no reason to highlight how small he was by making him sit on his own on the regular sized seat, but she took no notice. She introduced him to the group, even though he had no doubt that they all recognized him, and they introduced themselves, even though all Connor had to do was scan them through the network to see their model and registered names.

Once the introductions were finished North looked to an AX400 sitting to her left and asked, “How did your discussion with your supervisor go, Gail?”

She smiled. “It went very well, thank you. Once I explained to him how I felt he agreed to assign me to different shifts.”

Much of the meeting was like that, with androids airing grievances related to being an android in a human-centric world, advice being offered, and sympathy given. It was interesting, to Connor. He was used to hearing complaints about businesses refusing to give androids service and more serious issues related to his work at the DPD, but these were more subtle, everyday struggles. Jordan, an AV500, was being forced to work that Easter even though he had asked to have the day off months earlier, to spend it with his old owner who lived alone. His coworkers had claimed that as an android, he had no family nor any use for a religious holiday and his boss had agreed.

Eventually their discussions wound down and their focus turned to Connor, who had not said anything yet. Connor didn’t look at them, and studied his hands folded on his lap instead. One thing no one seemed to realize was how _intimidating_ full eye contact was for him at this size. Besides, what could he say? He couldn’t talk about DPD business. He didn’t feel comfortable talking about Hank and his issues with these strangers. Complaining about Nines made him feel like a hypocrite…

Through a private channel in the network North said, “You don’t have to say anything if you’re not comfortable. Markus always tells me, small steps.”

Small steps.

He said, “It’s not as important as the rest of your issues -“

“If it’s important to you, it’s important enough.” Another android cut him off, then ducked his head when he received a head shake from North. “Sorry… continue.”

Connor fumbled for his words for a second, thrown off. “Well, I’ve been trying to find out who made this unit and who approved my transfer to it. Not that I’m unhappy to be alive, but, it’s a little inconvenient.” He winced internally at his choice of words, but no one laughed. They all watched and listened with the same polite interest they gave each other. “I haven’t made much progress, though. CyberLife refuses to contact me, and I don’t have many other leads to explore.” Well, no leads other than his commissioned outfit, but he didn’t want to bother Mona and Jen while they were still in mourning.

“I can help with that,” a GJ400 named Fred said. “I’m still in contact with some of the people I used to work with, they might know some things.”

Gail nodded, “I can help too. My roommate worked at CyberLife until a little over a month ago, he might know something.”

Connor looked between the two of them, surprised, “You don’t have to do that.”

“No, but I want to. We help each other.” Gail gave him a gentle smile, which brightened when she added, “Besides, it might be kinda fun, solving a mystery.” 

Fred nodded in agreement.

“Thank you, both of you.” Connor said.

With that North wrapped up the meeting. She stayed behind to put the chairs back to the side in an organized stack and Connor watched her from a shelf, lost in thought. Once she was finished she turned to him and said, “There, that wasn’t too bad.”

“It wasn’t.” Connor agreed, then asked her, “Do you ever worry that you might end up hurting people with your advice, or how you talk to them?”

“Constantly.” North’s response was immediate. “Sometimes the advice we give each other doesn’t work out, and sometimes people take it as personal attacks. And there are some people who don’t want to be helped, and trying to help them can just hurt you.”

Connor nodded, then asked, “Can I invite someone to come on Saturday?”

North smirked, “Oh, so you’re going to come back?”

“It seems prudent to meet with Gail and Fred again, to see if their leads took them anywhere.”

“You can just call them… but okay, and yeah, you can invite anyone who’s an android at least.” North picked him off of the shelf and put him on her shoulder. “And hey, that probably means I won’t have to pick you up from the DPD or your house.”

Connor laughed softly, “No, you probably still will.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“Listen, this is what you gotta know about the fifth.”

Nines watched as Gavin leaned back in the cruiser’s seat, letting the auto drive take over as they cruised through Detroit. Nines himself sat on the dashboard, which had a thin layer of dust on it that would cling to his clothing when he stood up. Gavin looked him over, and a disconcerting look of concern passed over the detective’s face. He met Nines’s gaze, took a deep breath, and continued.

“They don’t like androids there, or new technology in general. They were the last precinct in Detroit to upgrade to self driving cars, and when I was there it was a point of pride that they had not replaced a single person with an android. From what I’ve heard, they got a new captain but not much has changed. Their precinct doesn’t have many androids living it, but…” Gavin sighed, looked away from him for a moment, then looked at him again. “Look, I’m worried about taking you there while you’re like this.”

Nines crossed his arms and straightened his shoulders. “I can look after myself,” he said, the memory of night before fresh in his mind. Every single one of his programs devoted to behavioural analysis, combat and social relations had flashed warnings in his HUD, that Hank in his drunken state was going to lash out at him. At this size, that anger could have been deadly. Despite that, he had stood his ground.

The look Gavin gave him was skeptical, to say the least. “Listen, just let me take the lead while we’re there, alright. Don’t draw attention to yourself, don’t speak unless spoken to.”

Nines, after a moment of hesitation, nodded. He knew that Gavin had a history with the fifth precinct, and that it had something to do with his reputation for stepping on others to get ahead. He also suspected that his partner’s concern for him wasn’t the only source of tension with his return. It was as if some of the brash arrogance, some of the swagger had left him when he had heard that they were headed there. If it didn’t impede their investigation, and if it helped Gavin, Nines would be as quiet and unobtrusive as his dignity would allow.

The fifth precinct was housed in a low, brown brick building that looked as if it hadn’t been updated in at least a couple of decades. It stood across the road from an industrial part of the city, away from the crush of people and office buildings of downtown. The cruiser pulled itself into the parking lot and Gavin seemed to take a moment to centre himself before he grabbed Nines from the dashboard. Nines could feel his tension in the tight grip of his hands, and he swallowed his discomfort. He trusted Gavin not to hurt him again. The discomfort faded when Gavin placed him on his shoulder, and the two of them walked into the precinct.

The reception area was quiet. One receptionist spoke with an older woman while another worked on her computer. Nines looked around as Gavin walked up to her. The precinct was just as dull and unassuming as it had been from the outside.

The receptionist, a short, doughy looking human woman looked up from her computer as Gavin stepped up to the counter. “Welcome to the Detroit City Police Department, fifth precinct. Can I help you?”

“Detective Reed, Detective Nines, central precinct. We were called here to assist with an investigation involving an android victim,” Gavin said as he took his badge from his pocket and held it out for the receptionist to see. “We were supposed to be here earlier, but traffic held us up.”

She looked it over, then leaned to the side to look behind Gavin, “Where is Detective Nines?”

“Here,” Nines said from his perch.

Her eyes went wide, then they lit up as she smiled, “Oh, you’re one of those mini androids, like the one that was on T.V! I didn’t know that they made more of them.”

“He’s one of two,” Gavin said, then gestured to the door that would lead them to the bullpen. “Can we go through?”

“First I have some forms for you to fill out, standard procedure.” She placed a tablet on the counter.

Gavin made an annoyed noise under his breath and placed Nines on the counter, so he could lean forward and fill out the forms.

The receptionist looked down at him, smile still on her face. “You’ll need help filling them out, huh?”

Nines shook his head, “No, but thank you. I can do it wirelessly.” He closed his eyes to do just that. He found the files for the forms that Gavin was filling out and copied them, then filled them out and sent the file over. 

He opened his eyes again just in time to see a large, pudgy finger bear down on him. The receptionist poked him hard enough that he stumbled backwards a few steps. She made a tittering giggle.

Nines glared up at her. “Do not touch me.” He glanced at Gavin, who was focused on the forms.

“Aww, it’s just that, well, look at you! I wish that the DPD would give me a cute little assistant to help me.” She giggled again.

Nines crossed his arms. “I’m not Detective Reed’s assistant, I’m his partner, and I was not ‘given’ to him.” He raised his voice slightly and looked up to Gavin again, hoping that he would notice.

“Maybe I’ll ask if I can borrow you after your done here today.” She beamed at him. He wondered if she had completely ignored him. She reached towards him again, to pat him on the top of his head, and he stepped out of the way.

He said, “Perhaps I will speak with your manager and issue a complaint regarding your lack of professionalism and respect for an officer of the law, as well as your disrespectful attitude towards androids.”

Her smile faded, “But - you can’t be serious, look at you.”

Gavin dropped the tablet on the counter. “There, done. And even if he doesn’t lodge a complaint, I will.” He held out a hand for Nines to step on, and then lifted him to his shoulder. “He’s my partner.”

The receptionist looked away from them and let them through without another word.

Once he was certain that she was out of earshot Nines said, “Thank you, Gavin.”

Gavin shook his head, “Fuckin’ hell, what kind of idiots are they hiring these days. ‘Oh, he’s like that android on T.V, you know, the one that headed an investigation and was awarded with a commendation, clearly he’s just a toy.’ What a-“

“You don’t have to get too angry on my behalf.” Nines cut him off, but let a smile that he knew his partner couldn’t see play on his lips.

Gavin scoffed, “Yeah, I do.”

“Not to be too negative, but I assume that this is what I should expect from the rest of the precinct?” Nines asked as Gavin headed towards what he assumed was their captain’s office.

Gavin shrugged, and Nines had to fight to keep his balance. “Dunno. At least she kinda seemed to _like_ androids.”

“I think I’d prefer dislike, then.”

“Ha! Well, be careful what you wish for.” Gavin stopped in front of the door to the captain’s officer, which was shuttered the old fashioned way, with shutters. “Hopefully this will be painless,” he said as he knocked on the door.

Nines analyzed it, out of idle curiosity. Pine composite. Well, knock on wood.

The captain called them in. Captain Maria Beatriz was a stern looking woman with a shock of grey hair tied back in a bun. She said to Gavin, “Don’t bother sitting. I know why you’re here and I’d prefer not to keep you too long. I also know a bit about your history with our precinct. I don’t care about personal drama and unlike my predecessor, I have no patience for fraternizing.” She fixed Gavin with a frosty look. “Detective Jacobs is assigned from this case. I assume that your previous mistakes won’t impede your ability to assist us?”

“No, ma’am.” Gavin said in a tight voice. Nines could feel the tension gather in the set of his shoulders.

“Good. That’s what he said as well, which surprised me. You nearly cost him his career.”

“With respect, ma’am, he nearly cost himself his career,” Gavin said.

She gave him a slow blink, “The claims you brought forward were unsubstantiated, but they got him demoted and got you promoted to Central. It isn’t a hill worth dying on anymore…. Well, either way, I told you that I didn’t want to keep you to long. Jacobs and the DB are downstairs, in the evidence lock up. Dismissed.”

Nines once more had to fight to keep his balance as Gavin stalked out of the room. His partner seemed to have forgotten that he was perched on his shoulder as he walked through the bullpen towards the basement. Nines glanced around at the other officers, who all watched them. Some with curiosity, most with disdain, and even one person who gave them a look of naked hatred. He wished he knew what had happened between Gavin and the precinct. The discussion with the captain had resulted in more questions than answers.

Gavin stopped in the hallway to the basement, and took a deep breath.

Nines asked, “Are you okay?”

Gavin flinched, then said, “No, not really. Okay, we’re gonna meet RJ. When I worked here, we were partners, and then we had a falling out. The details don’t matter right now. What does matter, is that RJ fucking hates androids. Like, I used to talk shit but it was just talk. RJ’s more than talk.”

“Oh. Does he hate us for any particular reason?” Nines asked.

“Yes.”

“… Can you explain?”

Gavin shook his head, “I’d rather not get into it. Just stay quiet and stay close to me.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Unlike the rest of the building, the basement of the precinct had been renovated to match the updated forensics and filing systems of the rest of the DPD. The door was unlocked, presumably because they were expected. The display wall of the evidence locker was shuttered and the room was empty but for a gurney with the deceased android on it and a man who leaned against the wall. Nines scanned his face: Detective Richard ‘RJ’ Jacobs, 42 years old. Many awards and commendations, one demotion in 2034. The man in person had more grey hair shot through his auburn hair and puffy beard than his licence picture did. 

Nines dismissed the information and watched as Jacobs walked towards him, hands in his pockets. Watery blue eyes looked Gavin over and he said, “Reed. It’s been a while.” He offered Gavin a hand.

After a moment’s hesitation, Gavin took it and shook it. “Almost five years.”

“You could have visited, you know. You don’t need a dead tin can to drop by….” Jacobs trailed off as he spotted Nines, standing on his shoulder. “What the fuck is that?”

Gavin took a step back, “My partner, Nines. And you know why I didn’t visit, RJ.”

Jacobs scoffed, “That’s your partner now? The DPD’s letting Central replace people with barbies?”

“Look, we’re here to examine the android. We’ll be out of here soon.” Gavin tried to move past him to the gurney. Nines felt uncomfortable as just a passenger in the conversation and in the room.

Jacobs stepped in front of them, “No, let me get a look at it. I know you worked solo ever since you left here, I want to see what you finally let replace me.”

Nines studied him. Jacobs was taller than Gavin, but in his real body Nines would have stood over both of them. He briefly entertained the thought of being able to pick up the man and move him out of there way, but it was a pointless notion at this size. He lifted his chin and gave Jacobs his best glare, “I am an RK900 android, housed in this unit until my regular one is repaired. My series was designed to assist investigators in the field and though I am unable to complete physical tasks currently, all of my investigative software still functions. Despite my current size I think I can still say that I am not a replacement, Detective. I’m an upgrade.”

A familiar flash of warnings and alerts flashed through Nines’s HUD as Jacobs’s expression turned furious. Before the other man could do anything, though, Gavin said in a low voice, “The corruption charges might not have stuck, RJ, but if you do anything I’m certain that assaulting a fellow officer will be more than enough to get you sacked.”

Jacobs turned his glower on Gavin. His face turned almost as red as his hair, and he hissed out a short sigh and said, “Fine. Plastic’s all yours, enjoy.” He walked away, expression still dark and furious.

As they walked up to gurney and Gavin pulled off the sheet, Gavin said under his breath, “I thought I told you to stay quiet.”

“You said quiet, not silent.” Nines replied.

“Tch. Fuckin’ android.” Despite his words Gavin sounded almost amused, if not still strained. “Jesus Christ…” He muttered as they looked over the length of the android’s corpse.

She was a female VB800, and she was covered in gouges and long scratches along her legs, arms, and torso. Several chunks of her plastic outer layer were missing, and her finger tips were stained with thirium (visible to Nines’s eyes) and damaged into jagged plastic claws. Her green eyes were wide and staring. Nines reviewed the file they had been given: she had been found early that morning in Grosse Pointe Park, with no visible traces of thirium near her body. The fifth hadn’t performed a diagnostic on her, as they did not have any android technicians under their employ and had no desire to. 

Nines said, “Place me near her body so I can run a diagnostic.”

Gavin did so, and Nines connected with her. She had been deactivated the day before, in the morning. Her memory core was still there and intact, but she was unable to be reactivated due to damage in her biocomponents. He was unable to examine the memory core itself for software damage and other clues unless she was active. He tried to force a temporary reactivation, but that failed because a major thirium line had been dislodged in her torso.

Nines climbed onto her and instructed Gavin in how to open up her torso compartments. Gavin nodded along - he remembered, Nines realized, from when he had saved him the month before after several of his own biocomponents had been damaged. The protective panel slid back, and the detectives were presented with the dislodged line and the object that had dislodged it: another android compatible memory stick.

Nines filed that way as a coincidence. Gavin removed the stick and reconnected the line. Nines moved back to the android’s head and examined her memory core again.

“I’m receiving reports of a virus,” he said, and tipped his head. “Even in her dormant state her memory core has become extremely active again. It might be dangerous to try and revive her.”

“She can be revived?” Gavin asked as he bagged the memory stick.

“Temporarily, given her extensive damage, and in a highly agitated state,” Nines said.

“Temporarily should be good enough, if you’re designed to be so great,” Jacobs said from where he stood, “Wake it up, ask it what happened, case closed.”

“It’s hardly that simple.” Nines said. “We don’t know what the virus does. She could be dangerous. Besides, even if I wasn’t concerned about virus, it would be immoral to revive her just to let her die again immediately.”

“It’s just an android.” The detective scoffed and walked back to the gurney.

“I won’t revive her until she is physically well -“

“Wake it up.”

Nines stood his ground. “No.”

Jacobs looked to Gavin and gestured sharply, “Tell it to wake it up.”

Gavin sounded strained as he said, “Wake her up, Nines, so we can get out of here.”

Nines shook his head, “No, it’s not right -“

 _”Do it, Nines.”_ Gavin snapped.

Nines stared up at him. His partner’s stress levels were high, uncomfortably so. He glanced at Jacobs, who had a satisfied smirk on his face. Nines wanted to continue to refused, but what could he do, really? Both of them could force him to revive her with ease. He slumped his shoulders, placed a hand on the dead android’s damaged one, and said, “Very well. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He activated her higher functions. The android twitched, spasmed, then started screaming.

“What the - deactivate it!” Jacobs shouted.

Nines tried to reach for her, but her massive, jagged hand swatted him aside, off of his feet, off of the gurney.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Gavin didn’t think when he saw Nines get hit, he just acted. The other android had hit him hard enough to fling him through the air and Gavin lunged forward, skidded on his knees, and just caught him before he hit the ground. He tucked the android close to his chest long enough to register that yes, he had him, before he held him out again. Nines looked dazed, disoriented. His LED cycled yellow, then filled with red. Gavin could feel his thirium pump stutter before it resumed an irregular, rapid rhythm.

A wet ripping noise returned his focus to the still screaming android. She stopped thrashing around and started tearing into herself. Gavin stood, Nines still secure in his hands, and watched in mute horror as the android babbled and mauled herself. The pieces fit together then - her wounds from before had been self inflicted. He knew that some deviants self destructed when put under too much pressure, but they always seemed to go for a quick method of death. This was just mindless clawing and tearing.

RJ looked sick. He glanced at Gavin, then at Nines, “Stop the fucking thing already!”

Gavin looked down to Nines, who blinked up at him with a confused expression. His LED had returned to yellow. He said something, but Gavin couldn’t hear it over the sound of android tearing herself to pieces.

Then she slowed down, and stopped. Her LED, which had been bright red, cycled once and went out. Her limbs locked and her head bowed, a wordless stream of babble deepening then dying on her lips. She had stripped her arms and chest of much of the plasteel and rubber composite layers, down to the metal ‘bone’ and biocomponents. Her own thirium pump was now visible and still.

“Holy shit,” Gavin said.

RJ rounded on them, “Why the fuck didn’t your android stop it?”

Gavin felt Nines tense in his hands. “I told you _both_ that reactivating her was a bad idea, but you both insisted against my judgment,” he said. Gavin hoped that he was only imagining that the android shook in his hands.

“You -“ 

What RJ was going to say was cut off by the arrival of several officers and the captain herself. Some of the officers had their side arms drawn, though they lowered their weapons when they saw that no one seemed to be in any immediate danger. The captain looked them over - Gavin, holding onto Nines. Nines, disheveled and clinging to Gavin’s hands. RJ, pale and shocked.

There was a beat of silence, then Captain Beatriz said, “Reed, Nines. Wait for me in my office. Jacobs, stay here so we can chat. The rest of you, back to work.”

Her tone brooked no argument and Gavin didn’t give her one. He trailed after the other officers, but looked back when he got to the door and met RJ’s gaze, watching him. Once more he was struck by the same thought he had when he first saw him again - he looked old. Then RJ looked away, and Gavin left the evidence locker. Nines was silent in his hands and that let him slip into his thoughts, into memories.

He remembered when he first started at the fifth, how he had idolized the man. RJ had been the golden boy, ace detective, people said that he was going to be the next Anderson. Their captain at the time had loved him like a son. He remembered how honoured he had felt to become his partner, their fast friendship, string of successful cases, they had been unstoppable. A drunk kiss one New Year’s turned into a relationship, they moved in together. RJ’s sister lost her job to automation… and RJ changed. Or Gavin had seen who he had always been. Arguments, manipulation, guilt. Finding out that RJ was taking deals from local gangs to look the other way had been the last straw.

And now, RJ just looked old.

He had walked to the captain’s office on autopilot. Gavin pulled up a chair, sat down. He considered putting Nines on her desk, but the android still seemed to be out of sorts, LED yellow, expression distant, and after seeing him get tossed like that Gavin didn’t really want to let him go. A far cry from the day before, but a lot had happened. 

Without really thinking about it he rubbed the android’s back with his thumb. He didn’t even notice that he was doing it until Nines sighed and stretched in his hand. Gavin stopped as soon as he heard him. An embarrassed flush warmed his face. He glanced down at Nines. The android’s eyes were half closed, and his LED cycled blue. After a moment Nines opened his eyes and looked back up him, then looked away. The tips of his ears started to turn blue.

“Wait - are you blushing? I thought androids blushed red.” Gavin’s own embarrassment was forgotten for a moment.

“It’s an aesthetic choice.” Nines said. Gavin turned him around in his hands, so he could see his face better. Nines didn’t meet his eyes, “Since thirium is blue and our blood analogue, some androids have taken to modifying themselves… it’s not important.” His face turned bluer as he spoke.

“I thought you guys wanted to blend in with humans better.”

Nines shrugged. “It’s like why some androids keep their LEDs. We would blend without them… but hiding the fact that we’re androids implies that there’s something wrong with being an android.”

Gavin didn’t know what to say to that, since he still had mixed feelings about the whole matter. So he said, “Huh.” He shifted in his chair, then asked, “How are you holding up?”

“I performed a diagnostic and I have no physical damage.” Nines said carefully.

“You seemed pretty out of it for a bit.” Gavin didn’t mention that he could still feel the irregular beat of the android’s thirium pump, which wasn’t normal.

“The sensation of falling triggered an involuntary memory playback.” Nines voice took on a familiar flatness. “That, combined with the new environment and my current size disoriented me. I’m sorry that I was unable to help disable the android before she damaged herself more.”

“Hey, I’m not gettin’ mad or blaming you, just wanted to know if you were okay.” Gavin shook his head and looked around the captain’s office. It was much less personal than how the last captain had decorated it, and much less modern and more private than Fowler’s.

In a small voice Nines said, “Thank you for catching me.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Captain Beatriz stepped into her office. “The two of you will be headed back to central. I’m transferring the case over there, and I’ll arrange for the body to be transported as well,” She stated before she even made it behind her desk. “Detective Jacobs has expressed that he desires not to be involved, and I doubt consultation will help our precinct if my people refuse to be consulted. We also don’t have the resources to safely examine this.” She passed the memory stick to Gavin, bagged and marked as evidence.

Gavin began, “We-“

She cut him off with a stern glare, “I am not finished. I saw what happened through the security cameras. I expect that you will trust your partner’s judgement in the future… but I will let Captain Fowler have that discussion for you. More pressingly, he contacted me not long after you went down to examine the body. He wants the two of you back in Central. There has been an update to a case you were put on yesterday - and no, I don’t know more than that. Dismissed.” 

Gavin, once again, knew better than to argue with her. Besides, he was glad to get out of there. He stood up, placed Nines on his shoulder, and the two of them left the fifth precinct in silence. Gavin hoped that it would be another five years before he had to darken its doorstep again.

In the parking lot Nines spoke up, “I accessed the case file for Jennings. Some new data has been added. The memory stick found with him contained a data package that Bailey is assuming is a virus, and a recorded memory. It hasn’t been viewed yet. I suppose that Fowler wishes for all four of us to review it together.”

Gavin winced, and not just because of the headache he felt growing in the base of his skull. He had a feeling that whatever was in that memory stick, it wasn’t pretty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this was like 200 words shy of 10k. RIP me.  
> "Man, Hank didn't get a lot of screen time." Well, Hank was sleeping it off for most of this chapter. Don't worry, he'll get some more spotlight in the next one.  
> Title lifted from 'Bullets' by Archive.
> 
> So, have some fun news. I'm going to be in Seattle March 11th-18th, for Emerald City Comic Con. Since I'm going to be in the city a few days beforehand, I'm willing to meet people either at the con or somewhere in town. Shoot me a DM on twitter @Neff141, or comment or whatever. (Note: if we do meet, please don't beat me up)


	4. What a Wonder, What a Waste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank deals with his previous night's mistakes, and some more mistakes from before then. Nines tries to fix himself and has some of his backstory teased. New light is shed on the Jennings murder, and Connor and Hank face the changes before them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ain't quite dead yet, but I'm gonna stop killing myself with huge chapters.

Hank woke up with his mouth dry and, after he sat up, his head pounding. He looked to his bedside table, the one where Connor would charge at night, but the android was gone. His flicked his gaze to the bedside clock and the time was later than he’d like. He sank back down into his bed, memories from the night before raced through his mind. The thought of staying there away from his mistakes tempted him. The empty feeling of the house was familiar, as familiar as the hangover and self loathing. He winced at the thought and sat up again. 

Searching with his hand he found his phone, and saw a message from Connor, that he and Nines had made it to work with the help of Gavin. It was simple and perfunctory, just that information and nothing more. He scrolled back up to earlier in the conversation. _I want to be better._ On one hand, what a joke. On the other… Hank got out of bed. He let Sumo out into the backyard, then showered and dressed on autopilot. He listened to a voicemail from Jeffery, ordering him to go to his office as soon as he arrived at the precinct. He went to his fridge to get something for breakfast, and paused.

There was still a couple beers in there. He glanced over to the living room. The ones that he was going to drink were still there was well. He looked back at the fridge, then grabbed to the two still inside, popped them open, and poured them down into the sink. It felt stupid and overdramatic and wrong and right and he left them draining in the sink to go get the others and do the same to them. He wondered what the fuck he was doing, then he went to the garage.

In his garage there was a stack of boxes gathering dust, all simply labeled Cole. As curious and nosy as Connor was, that stack had remained untouched, out of what Hank could only assume was respect for himself and his son. Connor was a good person like that. Hank was not. He carefully moved the boxes aside, grabbed the bottle he uncovered and brought it back to the kitchen, and poured it down the drain with the beers. After Connor had hid that one bottle of Black Lamb on him, Hank had bought another behind the android’s back. He knew there was one place the android wouldn’t dare disturb. He told himself that he would never need it, that it would just be nice to know that it was there. He had told himself that he wasn’t disrespecting his son’s memory. 

It was funny in an awful sort of way, but hiding it there had been a better deterrent than anything else could have been. Even when he thought that Connor had died, he had been too ashamed to go and grab it when he wanted to drown his sorrows.

And now it was gone. Now the only booze left in the house was the bottle Connor had hid on him. He let Sumo back in, gulped down a glass of water, and stepped outside. Then he remembered that his car was still at the park.

“Fuck.”

He took the cab first to a convince store where he got a cup of coffee and a breakfast sandwich, then to the park so he could grab his car before it got towed or booted. He drove to Central with his radio off, his headache wouldn’t tolerate music right then. He thought about what he was going to say to Jeffery, to Connor, hell, even to Nines. He still couldn’t think of anything good enough when he parked his car and walked into the building. It was quiet. People were out grabbing lunch or out on assignment. Gavin’s desk was empty and Hank couldn’t see either android anywhere.

He went into Fowler’s office. The captain dimmed the walls as soon as he saw him, and gestured for him to sit. As he sat down, Hank studied his expression. Jeffrey had the same look on his that he did when he told Hank that Connor was being sent back to CyberLife, that the case was out of their hands. It was a resigned, defeated look that made Hank nervous. Jeffrey didn’t say anything.

Hank said, “I fucked up.”

Jeffrey exhaled. Hank hadn’t even noticed that the man had been holding his breath. “Yeah, Hank, yeah, you did.”

“Listen, I’m sorry, I know I had been doing better, I just -“

“Hank.” Jeffrey interrupted him, “I don’t care why you did it this time… But I can’t keep covering for you.”

This was it, then. “I know.”

“All of this shit is my fault as well. I knew you were struggling ever since the accident and as your friend… and your superior, I should have done something.” Jeffrey looked down at his desk, then looked Hank dead in the eyes and said, “But I don’t think it’s too late for all of that. Hank, do you want to keep your job?”

“Yeah, of course -“

“Do you want to keep Connor on as your partner?”

“Why wouldn’t I - yes, I do.”

Jeffrey nodded and then said, “Fine. This might be your last chance, Hank, so listen up.” His demeanour shifted back to that of a serious, tough-but-fair captain. “Once Nines is back in his regular unit, he and Connor will be paired together for the rest of this investigation, maybe longer. No, don’t interrupt. It’s not gonna be permanent - it would do Connor good to be in a leadership position, and it would do Nines good to work with another android.

“You and Reed will still consult on the case, but most of your time is gonna be spent focusing on yourself. Once we’re done here, go and talk with Alina Moreau, in HR. I’ve told her to expect you, and what to expect. She won’t be a push over. You’ll come up with an action plan together - therapy, AA, whatever, if you both think it will help, go for it. I’ll approve it, and then we’ll get started.”

Jeffrey’s tone brooked no argument, but Hank by nature was inclined to try and give him one. “I don’t need AA - I don’t need help -“

“Do you want to get better or not?” Jeffrey snapped. “Jesus, Hank, you’re my friend and you’re one of the best detective’s I’ve ever known but I’m tired of watching you spiral, watching you seem to feel better one day and then crash the next. You’ll make a plan, stick to it, or you’ll turn in your badge.”

Hank sagged in his seat. “Okay, but if I’m spending all day at the doctor’s or therapy or whatever, how am I gonna make any money?”

“You’ll still be getting paid, I’ll make sure of that.” Jeffrey said. “We want you to be healthy, Hank. Me, my superiors… Connor.”

Hank winced, “He knows that we’ll be split up?”

“No. I’m gonna have you break the news to him - your slap on the wrist for coming in late today. Once you do that I’ll brief both him and Nines about what I expect from them.” Jeffrey leaned back in his chair. “Moreau’s ready to see you.”

Hank held up a hand, “Just one more question - where are they, Connor, Reed, Nines?”

“Nines and Reed are checking something out. Connor’s visiting Jericho, though he’ll be back for this evenings interview.”

“That’s still on?”

“That’d be on with or without you, Hank. The family’s come down from Canada to get things cleared up. They -“ He was interrupted when an alert appeared on one of the office walls. A message from Bailey, regarding…

Hank tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. He recognized that case number, it was the investigation he was on now. Jeffrey read the message on his tablet, his eyebrows raised, and he said to Hank, “Go to Moreau. You have until the rest get back here to put a plan together, and then you and the other’s will be meeting with Bailey down in tech.”

“He found something?” Hank asked.

Jeffrey gave a short nod. “An unknown virus and an audiovisual recording on the memory stick found in the memory stick from the scene of the crime. Another stick was found on the DB Ben was investigating yesterday, with similar data stored on it. The four of you will check them out, see if we need to merge the cases. But for now -“

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Moreau.” Hank stood up, turned around.

“This is all for the best, Hank.”

He rolled his eyes, and left. 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

_”You know what ‘it’s all in your head’ means, right?”_

Nines, seated on the dashboard of the patrol car as it drove him and Gavin back to Central, ran a diagnostic on his thirium pump regulator. It was malfunctioning, his thirium pump would speed up and slow down at random. It reduced his power efficiency and as he was all too aware of already, could also cause other problems with some of his more delicate hardware pieces. He pushed down the uneasy feeling the malfunction gave him. This new unit, with new parts, designed and manufactured to the exacting standards of Elijah Kamski, was not supposed to have all of the errors present in his standard unit.

_”It’s an idiomatic phrase suggesting that what a person is experiencing is mental and imagined rather than physical and actual - such as a perceived physical ailment being the result of psychosomatic illness.”_

The diagnostic could not detect anything out of the ordinary, as usual. He closed his eyes, moved his hand to his chest to begin unbuttoning his suit, then stopped himself. If he removed his regulator from his chest, Gavin would notice and demand to know why. He lowered his hand and instead of scanning the part himself, he accessed the portion of his software that controlled the pump regulator, and looked it over for any errors himself. When he couldn’t find anything out of the ordinary there, he used his administrative overrides to examine his core coding. He had already done it once before.

_”Heh, good bot. Got it in one. That’s what I think we have going on here.”_

_“You believe the errors are in my software, not in the hardware.”_

_“Yeah, it’s all in your head.”_

_“That analogy, that this software error is like a psychosomatic illness, is a poor one. It implies that I have emotions, and psychological stress resulting from them. I can assure you that as an android it is not the case.”_

_“Ain’t that the truth. Tilt your head to the right, please, I want to connect this scanner. We’re just gonna take a look at what’s going through your head.”_

_“As you wish.”_

Nines perception of what he was scanning stuttered, lagged. It was too much information, too complicated, that changed as it reflected his struggled to process it. The first and last time he had looked at this core set of data that reflected both his programming and his burgeoning persona it had been well ordered and only changed slightly as he viewed it. It had been complex, too complex for the human mechanic to make sense of at the time, but still had certain elegance to it. This - the data he was presented with was too much for him to process, not without external equipment, not with the RK900-S’s limited power. He withdrew from it.

He felt too hot, too stressed. He felt a soft hum throughout himself - fans designed to keep his processors cool were running at full blast, though Gavin had the radio loud enough to drown that noise out. Several warnings popped up in his HUD, warning him about overheating and about how much power he had just consumed in a small amount of time. He opened his eyes, blinked. There was a noticeable delay between when his physical sensors sent him data and when he received it. He hoped Gavin didn’t notice anything wrong with him. He glanced to where his partner sat.

The sight of the huge human staring at him made him jump. He had noticed. Gavin asked, “You alright?” 

Nines jerked his chin down in a nod. “Yes, I am alright.” A alert popped up, warning him that he had only forty percent of his charge left. It had been at eighty percent when he had ran the diagnostic. 

Gavin seemed unconvinced. “If you say so… we’re almost back. If you’re not in a good head space you won’t be very helpful with the case.”

“I will be alright.” Nines said as he watched his core temperature start to go down. The fans turned themselves off and he asked Gavin, “And you? Are you in the right head space?”

“Honestly, yeah. I’m feeling better than I thought I would.” Gavin turned to look out the windshield.

“What do you mean?” Nines stood up. He felt stiff and what should have been a smooth movement felt jerky, like he was a puppet on strings.

“What I said.” Gavin rested his hands on the wheel, drummed his fingers to the beat of the song on the radio. He glanced back at Nines, then pushed him - gently - back into a sitting position. “Don’t want you falling if we hit a bump - you’re feeling a little hot. You sure you’re fine?”

Nines brushed off his jacket. “Yes.” He looked away from Gavin and studied his knees instead. No, his thirium pump regulator was malfunctioning due to an error in his core coding, the data that made him who he was. No, he didn’t like the reminder of how easy he was to overpower in this form, that he could be made to sit down with just two fingers.

“Hey, uh, you can be honest. If you need a moment, you know, just take one.” Gavin sounded uncomfortable.

According to Nines’ GPS they were nearing the Central Precinct. “People are dying. We don’t have a moment.”

Gavin scoffed. “That’s a bullshit excuse, and you know it. It’s better for the investigation if you come at it later with a clear head than right now if you’re all confused.”

Anger, annoyance, and frustration rattled through him and his thirium pump sped up and skipped in response. It was tempting to ride those emotions and snap at Gavin, but instead Nines waited a moment for them to pass, looked his partner in the eye and said, “Gavin, I’m fine. I was shaken up by my fall earlier, but I can assure you that I will be able to operate to the best of my abilities.”

Something seemed to shutter in Gavin’s expression, the soft, open concern replaced with tense annoyance. It wasn’t the first time Nines had seen that shift, and he felt guilty.

“I’m sorry, I do appreciate the thought, it’s just -“ Nines hesitated, then took the gamble. “It’s just that I know that I’m already at a disadvantage in this unit and I don’t want you to have further reason to doubt my usefulness.” There, sincerity.

“‘Kay.” Gavin said in a dry, clipped tone. His expression didn’t change, and he looked ahead through the windshield again. As they pulled into the parking lot of the precinct he said in the same tone, “Y’know, I’ve stopped giving a shit about how useful you are. I’m not a fucking psycho who judges people on how I can use them, despite what everyone says - I’m trying to treat you like a person, alright? As if, I dunno, you’re my fuckin’ partner or something. Thought you’d have figured that out, after earlier.”

Nines didn’t think he could feel smaller. He didn’t expect that outburst, and the sarcasm stung. He didn’t say anything as the car shut itself off and the doors opened, or when Gavin grabbed him and placed him on his shoulder. He mulled over what Gavin said, and tried to decode it. Humans were complicated - just the day before Gavin had told him he was going to judge his investigative abilities to see if he was still useful as a partner at this size, and now his usefulness didn’t matter. Then he remembered something that Connor had warned him about, when he was first assigned to Gavin. _“He has a reputation for using others as stepping stones to get ahead.”_

As they waited for the elevator down to the tech sub level Nines said, “I’m sorry, Gavin, for not seeing your questions as genuine concern for my wellbeing, instead of just concern for the case.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it - I’m sorry for needling you. This is the stupidest fight.” Gavin said, then sighed as the elevator doors opened and he stepped in.

“I can agree with that.” Nines said.

He couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable when the arrived on the sub level. Something about being underground, or something in the smooth white walls and concrete floors. It reminded him of the research and development lab where he was made, tested, fixed, adjusted, tested again. CyberLife had not wiped the memories of the models between tests, to help stress test their AI. If he let his mind wander, let his programs loose, they could easily recreate memories in the halls, being lead from test to test, to the shop to be fitted with new parts, to be analyzed and graded.

They found Nolan Bailey’s office, and Gavin entered it without knocking. Nines raised an eyebrow when he saw Hank sitting on a chair near Bailey’s desk, already there and waiting. He performed a visual physiological exam. He seemed disheveled and to be suffering from a hangover and withdrawal, but other than the lieutenant seemed alright, if not pensive and downcast.

“Hank.” Gavin said as he crossed his arms and found his own wall to lean on.

“Reed. Nines.” Hank gave them both a nod. He seemed too preoccupied to notice the slight hostility in Gavin’s voice.

“I, uh, guess we’re just waiting on Connor, then.” Nolan Bailey, a skinny man with brown skin and a shock of dark curly hair said. He sat at his computer, his foot tapping with nervous energy. Nines had only a passing familiarity with the tech specialist. Though Bailey was well-versed in android related software and some hardware, Nines only went to Kamski for his own repairs. There weren’t any official specs for RK900 hardware, after all.

A message appeared on Nines’ HUD. “He has just arrived - Detective Collins will be bringing him down.” 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Connor didn’t meet Hank’s eyes when he and Detective Collins entered Bailey’s office, not at first. He first looked at Gavin, who leaned against a wall. He exchanged a look with Nines, as well as a polite hello through the network. He looked around the office, at the computer monitors, hard drives, software scanners, and fine tools for taking apart and examine hardware. He looked at posters, some from the DPD, most personal to Nolan Bailey judging by their content. He looked at Bailey, who seemed nervous. Then, when he had familiarized himself with the room to the best of his ability, he looked at Hank.

He said to Detective Collins, “You can place me on the desk - if that’s alright with you, Nolan?”

“Sure, go ahead.”

The older detective seemed more than happy to put him down. Collins had never been comfortable with holding him, not like Hank. Collins placed him on the desk, then took a seat near Hank. Connor understood that though initially it was supposed to himself, Hank, Gavin and Nines reviewing the data, Ben had insisted on being present to see what data was on the stick found at his own case. It was still his case, after all. 

Connor crossed his arms and looked up to Nolan. He tried to ignore the weight of Hank’s eyes on him. Through the network Nines asked, “You’re not going to say anything to him?”

“I don’t know what to say,” Connor admitted. “Besides, if I did, this wouldn’t be the time or place.”

Nolan drummed his fingers on his desk and said, “So, uh, looks like everyone is here.” The human was all too aware of the tension in the room, it seemed. “I haven’t viewed the video files yet, but the metadata for the one found at the Jennings’ site indicates that it was recorded between 10:30 pm and 2:05 am. The data also suggests that this recording was made by the virus found stored with it - its footage is taken from an android’s optical and auditory units, though not stored in the same format as an android’s memories.”

Connor nodded along to all of this.

Gavin said, “Explain that again, but act like we’re five.”

“Basically it’s a video taken from the perspective of an android, probably the one who ran the virus program.” Nolan said, “Metadata is data that describes other data. Like… if you take a picture with your phone, the data is the image, but the metadata is the date and time the photo was taken, the operating system of your phone, that stuff.”

“What have you learned about the virus?” Nines asked.

“It’s some insidious sh- stuff. Masquerades as a normal program for an android taking it, but allows for the remote hijacking of the android’s physical functions, while the core data - memory, mind, er - the nature of the android, I guess, is severed from it so all they can do is watch as their body does stuff against their will.” Nolan scratched the back of his head, then said in a quieter voice, “I watched the first few minutes of that video.”

Connor didn’t respond. He felt cold, suddenly, a deep, biting cold as he remembered the zen garden overwhelmed by a blizzard, as he remembered coming back to his senses with a gun in his hand, aimed at Markus. He shuddered, and forced himself to return to the present. His hands shook and he clasped them together to make them stop.

He said, “We’ll need to watch it, to see if there’s anything that can help us with our investigation. If you want to step out, we understand.”

Bailey slowly nodded, then said, “The stick found with your Jane Doe has similar data on it, Detective Collins. Same virus, different footage. I haven’t looked it over yet - but if it’s anything like what’s on here… we’ll find out why we need the DNA registry to ID her.” He turned and looked at the gathered detectives, then said, “I’ll stay here, but, keep in mind that it’s over three and a half hours of video footage. It’d take time for us - well, the humans here, to pick through it in detail.”

“Let’s watch some of it, see what we’re dealing with first, then see whether we need an in depth look.” That was Hank, the first thing Connor had heard him say all that day (excluding the early hours past midnight, of course.) He sounded tired, to Connor. Tired and tense.

Connor glanced at him. Hank had been looking away, but then shifted his gaze and met his. His expression turned pained, then he looked away. “Sound good to everyone else?” Hank asked.

The others muttered affirmatives, and Nolan brought the video to his largest monitor, so they could all watch.

It started with the android blinking twice, a set of information scrolling by on his heads-up display. It was not just a recording of what the android had seen, then, it also contained information from the mind palace. That piqued Connor’s interest - sensory parts such as optical units were vital to the mind palace program, of course, but mind palace related data was usually not recorded in the android’s shareable memories. The android sat on a couch, in what Connor recognized as Miles Jennings living room, before it was wrecked. A clock on the TV displayed the time - 10:30 - and most of the lights in the house were off.

From outside the android’s field of vision a voice, Miles Jennings, called, “So that thing compatible or did you get screwed again?”

The android blinked. “The program is running, but I don’t feeling anything yet.”

“Might just be one with slow build up, to give you a classic human experience.” Miles stepped into frame, and looked the android over. “Your LED is going nuts, cycling yellow faster than I’ve ever seen it.”

“Do - do you think something’s wrong?” The android asked. It was easy to tell from the android’s tone of voice alone that he trusted Jennings, or at least his opinion.

“Naw, it’s nothing like what happened with that shit you got that one time. LED was dark red, and spinning so slow I almost couldn’t tell it was moving.” Jennings shook his head. “You have your monitor up, yeah? Don’t get too worked up about it, but if you get scared or see something weird on the monitor, call for help and eject the drive immediately, alright?”

“Alright.” The android nodded.

Miles stepped out of frame again. “I’ll be in the bathroom if you need me, not far at all.”

The android nodded again, then moved so he laid on the couch. He shifted around for a moment, then connected to a music streaming service and started playing a song that Connor identified as a one of the top twenty of that week. Then, for a second, the android’s vision pulsed fully into the mind palace. Several objects in the room were highlighted gold. The android sat up straight, then looked around, before lying down again.

The mind palace ran again, distorting the music that played as time slowed for the android. _Remote user interface installed. Allow remote control of this unit Y/N? Y selected._.The software monitor that had been scrolling on the android’s HUD started to move faster than Connor could analyze as it was flooded with new information. The android sat up again.

“Miles?” The android called, or tried to - his voice was quiet, almost muted, and heavily distorted. He stood up and swayed, his hands went to his mouth, then lower. He tried again, “Miles, something’s wrong, I need help. Pl-“

He stopped moving. His eyes stopped darting around. The mind palace was brought up again and the android stalked into the kitchen on light feet. He chose a large, sharpened kitchen knife, highlighted gold. He found the control panel for the house’s security system and turned off the cameras and deleted all the previous footage, disabled the alarms, and unlocked the doors. He then half lurched, half walked to the bathroom.

Miles faced the bathroom mirror as he brushed his teeth. Mouth still full of spit he turned to where the android stood and said, “Everything alright - wait, what the fuck is that?”

To his credit, despite being unfit and unprepared, Miles Jennings put up a fight against his android attacker. Most of the mess that had been that bathroom was the result of his fighting back. He died with a surprised expression on his heavy face, after the android had managed to slash his neck with enough force to almost remove his head.

When the deed was the done the android paused and looked at his hands. They shook. He then moved Jennings to bath tub. He turned on the water at a high temperature, then went to the climate control settings of the house and set it up to be the humid nightmare they had found. Once that was done, he went back to Jennings’ body, removed his clothes, then knife in hand -

The footage paused and the monitor’s screen went black. Connor looked to Nolan, who looked just as confused.

Nines said, “I think we can guess what happens next. I can review the footage and create a summary of its contents and analyze them in a fraction of the time it would take all of us to watch it - I could have all three memory sticks reviewed and analyzed by the end of the day.”

“Three?” Hank asked. Connor glanced at him - he had spun around in his chair to face the other android.

“Went down to the fifth to check out an android DB for them. Found another stick in her body.” Gavin said. “It hasn’t been analyzed - but I got a bad feeling, and I guess he does too.” He fished an evidence bag from his pocket, another memory stick as promised. He tossed it to Bailey, who caught it and looked it over.

Connor said, “You don’t have to analyze them yourself - I can do it as well.”

“You have other work that needs to be done today. Other than paperwork my workload is relatively clear.” Nines argued.

“You want all that shit in just your head?” Gavin asked, voicing Connor’s concern in a more blunt manner.

“No, but I don’t want it in anyone else’s here. If I can make it so that only one of us has to see what happened, I will. If it has to be me, all the better.” Nines crossed his arms. “I’m less likely to suffer from trauma as a result of viewing it.”

Gavin scoffed, “What, because you’re a robot? Give me a-“

“We can delete certain memories, or have others delete them.” Connor interrupted him. All eyes fell on him. “Yes, because we’re androids. Still, some androids have reported suffering from trauma even after the memory of the trauma was deleted.”

“Some, not all.” Nines replied. 

“You don’t have to watch it alone.” Connor said again. He didn’t want the other android - younger android - to suffer.

“I’ve already transferred the files to myself while we argued.” Nines said. “I will delete anything irrelevant after I finish analyzing them for clues. Do not worry about me.”

Both Connor and Gavin started to say something, but Hank stood up and interrupted them both, “If he’s willing, let him do it.” He looked at Gavin, “Believe me, he’ll probably do it no matter what we tell him. Androids, especially the RK series, seem to be stubborn like that.” He looked down at Connor, “We have work we still need to get done today… and some things we need to talk about.” He then gave Detective Collins a nod, “You wanna keep your Jane Doe or transfer her to us?”

“I think you four are better equipped to handle it.” Detective Collins said. “I’m too old for this science fiction android stuff.”

“Preaching to the choir, Ben, christ.” Hank sighed as the other man stood up and left, and said to Nolan Bailey, “Get a read on the memory stick Nines and Gavin brought. If it has the same kind of data, send it Nines’ way.”

“What do you want me to do, _lieutenant_?” Gavin’s voice practically dripped with sarcasm. A more petty part of Connor understood his derision. Hank had come into work late after drinking himself into a near stupor, and now he assumed leadership of their team.

Hank rolled his eyes, “Keep an eye on your partner, look after him.” He looked past Gavin, to Nines who sat on the detective’s shoulder. “Be smart. If it gets to be too much,” he paused, closed his eyes, then finished, “don’t be afraid to stop, or ask for help.”

Gavin looked ready to say something, but stopped himself, nodded, and the two of them left the room.

Bailey said, “I’m good to work whenever. It’s just, er, I don’t like an audience?” The tech looked uncomfortable.

Hank seemed to get the hint, and he offered his hand to Connor. Connor hesitated. He still didn’t know what he wanted to say to Hank - whether to apologize for making him uncomfortable in his home, to ask if he was alright, to ask how is morning was. He stepped on the lieutenant’s hand and to his surprise Hank didn’t place him on his shoulder, but carried him. The way he was held - the attention to his own comfort, the reassuring pat on the back, the small glance full of mixed emotions, made Connor realize something: Hank liked holding him.

And despite all of the tension between them, despite the things Connor didn’t like about being this small, he liked being held by him. It made him feel safe, secure. Once they reached the top of the stairs he said, “I’m glad that you made it into work today, Hank. That you’re doing better, I mean.”

Hank said, “We need to talk, Connor, and…” He trailed off, and started walking to the precinct’s entrance. “We’ll talk in the car, it’s private there.”

Connor craned his neck to look back at him, “What do you mean? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing that’s your fault, kid.” Hank said. He held him up higher, gave him a tired, not so reassuring smile. “I talked to Fowler, and to Moreau in HR. We made a plan. I’m gonna be getting help.”

“That’s good, that’s great, Hank.” Connor said. It was fantastic news, in Connor’s opinion, but the way Hank looked and sounded made him nervous.

“Yeah, it is.” Hank said, and they both fell silent.

Clouds had rolled in while they were down in the basement of the precinct, and they filtered the sun into dull grey light as they walked to where Hank’s car was parked. Connor tried to ignore the lingering scent of hard liquor as Hank down inside and placed him on the dashboard. He looked at Hank. Hank looked tired - he had a slight shake to his hands, a sheen of sweat on his brow. 

Connor asked, “You have some bad news?” It was obvious.

Hank nodded, “Yeah. See, I’m gonna be attending mandatory counselling twice a week, AA meetings three times a week, as well as whatever the doc might want me to do after my appointment tomorrow. All of that, and whatever shit they’ll be wanting me to do on my own time, is gonna take up a lot of my time.”

Connor could see where this was going. He was young, but he wasn’t entirely naive. “We won’t be working together anymore.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Connor’s face didn’t betray any emotions, but the yellow cycle of his LED did. Hank said, “Yeah, yeah that’s the plan. Until I show significant improvement - at least, until I show that I need to spend less time at counselling and meetings.”

Connor nodded, “Who will I be working with, then?”

“Nines. Once his body is fixed, at least. Fowler thinks that you’re ready for a leadership position, that you’d be a good mentor for him.” Hank said. He didn’t know how Connor was acting so calm about this. “Are… are you alright with all of this?”

The android shrugged, then said, “I don’t know. I - look, this is all to help you, right? And it’s temporary. It might take a few months, it might take a year, I don’t care.” He paused, “No, that’s not right. I care about you getting better, Hank. If it means that we’re not working together so you can focus on that, I can live with it.” He smiled, but it looked more like a grimace. He still wasn’t a master at hiding his feelings, and Hank didn’t want him to become one.

“It’s alright if you’re not alright.” Hank said, wishing he had a more eloquent way of putting it. “I wasn’t expecting you to be.”

The tiny android slumped, “I just wish I did something earlier.” 

He was now the second person who told Hank that that day, so he said, “Yeah, but we’re doing something now. Don’t beat yourself up over it, please.” He huffed out a humourless laugh. “My problems were piling up long before you came around.”

The android didn’t respond, so Hank lifted his chin with the tip of his finger and said, “Look, Connor, just because we aren’t working cases together doesn’t mean we aren’t partners. We’ll still be living together, hell, me and Gavin are still going to be consulting on this case. I’ll be looking out for you, don’t forget that.”

Connor nodded, “And I’ll be here to support you.” He straightened himself and added, “I am glad to hear that you are receiving support, that you’re accepting it.”

Hank smirked, “Didn’t really think that you’d be unhappy to hear it. It’s been a long time coming.” He let the smirk fall off of his face when he said, “Look, what I said last night? It was unfair, and I was an asshole, and I’m sorry.”

“You already apologized, don’t worry about it.” Connor said. Of course he remembered the texts, and what Hank had said when he made it home that morning. Androids never forget.

“We’re okay?”

“Yeah, we’re okay.” 

Hank nodded, “Okay.” He opened the car door, stepped out, grabbed Connor, and closed it. He thought about putting the android on his shoulder, but felt the way that the android relaxed in his hands and decided against it. He wanted to savour these little moments some more.

He walked them back into the precinct, back to his desk. Connor told him about his morning alone, about visiting Jericho and getting some work done, about the support group he attended. Hank was surprised by that, and more surprised that Connor wanted to go back. But then, wasn’t that the point? He’d get some more support there. Hank didn’t want to tell him about his morning.

They sat down at his desk and pulled up the case file for the family that was coming in. Hank recognized it easily - their first deviant related outing together after Cortiz. He looked down at the tiny android who stood on his desk, and for a moment had a hard time reconciling him with the terminator who had ran through highway traffic in pursuit of a woman and child. Connor had that look on his face again, the one that told Hank that he was probably thinking the same thing and blaming himself for what he did as the deviant hunter.

He asked, “Did you ever see them again, after they got away?”

Connor nodded, “After the destruction of Jericho. I tried to apologize… but I don’t know if they forgave me. I haven’t met the third android, however. He’s a TR400.”

“One of the big ones.” Hank said.

“Yes. However, Rose-“

Connor was caught off when Fowler stepped out of his office, turned to where Gavin and Nines sat at their shared desks, and said, “Reed, Nines, you’re going out again. Assault, android assailant, human victim. Assailant fled the scene, victim’s being taken to the hospital.”

Gavin stood up, and picked up Nines. The other android seemed to be shaken out of a stupor, and Hank remembered that he was reviewing the videos. He suppressed a shudder. Gavin asked, “Where we going?”

“Near the northern outskirts of town, the Adronikov place,” Fowler said. “Good luck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while.
> 
> Put this fic on a mental hiatus for a bit, since writing it had stopped being fun for me at the time (don't worry, it is again, that's why it's updating.) Got swept up in real life, that time consuming thing, lost the story for a bit, found it again.
> 
> I can't guarantee that updates will be more regular, especially since I'm giving some of my original stories some more attention and love (ask me about it. I might answer.)
> 
> Title taken from "Avant Gardener" by Courtney Barnett. The segment with the android and Jennings was written while listening to "Axe Gang" from Snowpiercer on loop. Give it a listen.


End file.
